Ghostly Generations
by Caracal222
Summary: COMPLETE! Jake and Ellie Fenton, twin heirs to the Fentonworks corporation, discover they have inherited ghost powers from their father. How come they were never told? What secrets does Danny have to hide? And what will they make of their new powers?
1. Prolouge: There Once Was a Hero

_Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! I bring you my latest work!_

_ I've had this idea burning a hole in my brain for ages now. So much, in fact, that I just had to write this fic. Now, after much brainstorming, I've finally written the prolouge._

_ Enjoy!_

_

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__**Ghostly Generations**_

_Now in High Dephanision!_

_**Prolouge: There Once Was a Hero...

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**_

_It's always a treat after school lets out. It's practically the only time of day when a teenager can have a couple of hours to herself with her friends._

_My name's Chrissy; Chrissy Kwan. Just your average fourteen-year old girl with her average fourteen-year old friends._

_As we venture through the city, we marvel at the sights, like always: towering buildings, as high as mountains look down upon us. They are the pinnacle of modern architecture; a tribute to the years of prosperity that have blessed Amity Park for the past eight years. Before that, I can't really remember. I was in first grade back then._

_On the outskirts of the city lie dozens of apartment buildings and suburban homes; all packed with everyday gadgets to make our lives easier. Housework finally takes only half the time it used to, and only a fraction of the labor._

_Yes, life's been good ever since Fentonworks entered the multinational market..._

_Our hover-scooters slow down as we come to our destination. For a moment in time, I look over at my friends: Jake and Ellie Fenton, twin heirs to Fentonworks. They've got everything: looks, money, style; yet they refrain from popularity. They say it's not that important._

_There's a little cyber-cafe that you'll find packed with patrons just after school, just two blocks over from Casper High. Yet a normal person could walk right past it without even knowing it was there. It's pretty inconspicuous, as most of these places are: stark chrome exterior, old-fashioned hinge door, very little identifying qualities. To the untrained eye, it looks like an abandoned warehouse._

_Yet it's a nice, cozy place once you get inside. Get there before the after-school rush and you have a good chance of finding a seat. But the owner is a character one would never forget: he's a hulk of a man, with cornflour hair, dark blue eyes, and a rugged and strong chin. His voice sounds like glass getting ground up under a door._

_His name is Baxter; he's still a kid at heart, I think._

_Once in a while, he'll go into one of his long rambles about the "good old days." The days when cars didn't fly, cities weren't made of glass and steel, and soda was still half a dollar a piece._

_But today, he was talking about a hero._

_A hero that came from a parallel word; who took on malefactors from his nightmarish dimension and sent them back. A hero who some adored, and others despised. A hero who was nothing more than a kid when he was first seen._

_A hero named Danny Phantom._

_He talked about this ghost's amazing exploits: about a walking suit of battle-armor, a beautiful genie, and even a giant celtic king. He spoke of Phantom blasting them back with a ray of energy; of reaching through solid matter; of disappearing instantly, becoming a vaporous fog, and creating doppelgangers from thin air._

_But when one kid brought up the mean enemy, Baxter fell silent._

_Everyone of his generation knows about him: skin like a spreading disease, eyes like fiery furnaces, hair like a wolf, clothes like Dracula, and a voice that could send chills down your spine. The one who broke an innocent man and laughed over his body before he was struck down by our very own police commisioner._

_He never wanted to talk about Plasmius. He never wanted to talk about that fateful day fifteen years ago when Danny Fenton was crippled for life._

_Everyone went solemnly back to their activities: drinking coffee, tickering away on computers, chatting about fashion and popularity and how lame homework is. I go to my friends, the only children of that poor man that Baxter had talked about._

_Then, the man launches into another of his tales about spooks and specters from another time, and everyone gathers around again._

_He remembers; he was there, in the thick of it all with the rest._

_Back then. It wasn't that long ago._

_We once had a hero.

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_

_TA-DA!_

_ I'm immensely proud of my latest work, and will get back to my current fic shortly. Tell me how I'm doing, please!_

_ Your sincerest regards,_

_Monsieur Caracal. _


	2. Chapter One: Normalcy

_Good evening, good people! Or morning. Or afternoon. Or night._

_Here's the first chapter of the fic. I hope the prologue satisfied most of you!

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_

_**Chapter One: Normalcy**_

"Come on, Ellie!" exclaimed Jake to his sister. "School starts in twenty minutes!"

Ellie came bursting out the door, pulling her coat on. "Don't worry, I'm here. You really should try to think positively."

"_You_ be positive," replied Jake. "_I'll_ be realistic."

Both fourteen year-old children got onto their hover-scooters, taking off from the landing platform towards Casper High. It would be difficult to make it there on time; the traffic during this time of day was just horrible.

As they sped through the air, they looked at the superstructure of the city: made entirely of glass and steel, towering dozens of stories above the ground. Amity Park was a center of commerce now, if a small one. This would most definitely be expected. Fentonworks made its main headquarters here.

Jake and Ellie's father, Danny Fenton, was the CEO of the company. It had been he who had introduced its products into the commercial market, pulling it out of its first focus: ghost-hunting. Nowadays, Fentonworks was the world's leading producer of commercial goods in one way or another; it owned at least five-hundred businesses worldwide.

Its main competitor, Dalv Corp., excelled in another field: weaponry. About seventy percent of all police, military, and commercial firearms in the US alone were patented by Dalv. Their father's company had never even entered this field, partly accountable to Danny's pacifistic nature. He didn't like guns.

They saw the school and lowered altitude outside. Two teens, a boy and girl about their age, were rushing out the doors that led to the quad to greet them.

"Over here!" yelled the girl, waving her arms. The twins landed next to the two, pressing a button on their scooters. The chrome-colored machines began to fold up, ending as sheets of metal the size of books. They packed the vehicles in their bags, then turned to the two.

"Hi, Chrissy," said Jake, addressing the girl. "We're not late, are we?"

"Oh no," said the boy with a hint of accent. "Not yet."

"Oh good. For a second, David, I thought–"

The bell sounded over the quad.

David grinned. "_Now_ you're late."

* * *

The day went by slowly. At the start of their freshman year, by some weird and unwanted coincidence, Jake and Ellie had obtained the exact same schedules. This proved irksome for the both of them, one constantly trying to best the other in academics. Their parents never stressed that enough.

The first three classes, Social Studies, PE, and Math, were the least favorite of one or the other, if not both. Jake was good at History, while Ellie wasn't. Ellie excelled in gym, but Jake didn't. And neither liked math; it was the one thing that both always agreed upon.

Now, at lunch, they sat alongside their respective friends, Jake reading Carl Jung's_ Psychology of the Unconscious_, and Ellie wracking her brain to try and find a suitable start to her paper on ghosts that both siblings had been assigned. David and Chrissy ate their lunch; watching their friends' displays was always entertaining.

Chrissy Kwan was fourteen, same as the rest of the group. Her features were almost doll-like: blonde hair, blue eyes, and a cute, smiling expression that she wore most of the time. She and Ellie had met when they were seven, introduced by their father's employee, Dr. Kwan, who had remarked that Chrissy looked just like her mother.

David Kasparov, on the other hand, was steely and rugged. Born in Ukraine, he had met Jake only a year ago, when the twins found him stuffed in a locker by the school football team. He was solidly built, though; months of weight-training had taken effect after that little incident.

_Ghosts are the ectoplasmically imprinted remnants of dead creatures_, wrote Ellie, _who, for some reason, cannot rest easily in the afterlife._

She tapped her foot. This was hard for her.

_Until twenty-five years ago, ghosts were thought to be merely the stuff of legend._

"Come on, think!" she muttered audibly.

David perked up at this. "Want some help?" he asked, his deep voice cracking ever so slightly.

"I'd really appreciate it," replied Ellie, agitated with her paper.

David started to write down a new paragraph for the essay; Jake smiled at his best friend. Kasparov concealed the crush that he had on Jake's sister very poorly. Chrissy, however, never seemed to notice this, merely thinking that David was just a selfless person.

As Ellie started to copy the essay down, Jake's ring tone went off. He activated the viewscreen on his watch, and his father's face appeared.

"Hi Dad," said Jake, putting down his book.

"Hi son," replied Danny on the screen. "Listen: I'm going to one of your grandparent's latest projects tonight, and your mother's going out of town. You think you and your sister can come?"

"Hang on; I'll ask her." He looked up at Ellie. "Hey, sis!"

She looked up from her paper.

"Dad wants us to come to work with him tonight. You wanna come?"

"Ooooh! Can we come? Can we come?" squealed Chrissy. She never passed up an opportunity to visit the Fentonworks labs. There was always something extravagant going on there, something that changed almost every other week.

"What do you mean we?" asked David incredulously. Jake knew that he didn't like being dragged along anywhere. That is, unless...

"Fine," said Ellie. "I'm done anyway. Thanks, Dave."

The boy grinned sheepishly. "Count me in!"

_Typical_, thought Jake. He spoke to his father, saying, "She says yes."

"Good!" said Danny. "Meet me at HQ at five o-clock. See you all there! Bye!" And the viewscreen went blank again.

"Must be pretty sweet," said Chrissy, "having all that money. You two must be knee-deep in dates."

"You know that's not true," said Ellie. "There's no point in showing off money if you don't earn it yourself. At least, not unless it'll help..." She grinned mock-evilly, as she often did.

The bell sounded out, and the four went back to their respective boring classes...

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_And there we have it! The first true chapter!_

_I hope to get the next one up soon! Please leave your opinions!_

_Your sincerest regards,_

_Monsieur Caracal._


	3. Chapter Two: Gray

_Greetings, my fine friends! Here's the next chapter; and then, the action starts...

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_**Chapter Two: Gray**_

The usual Cram-Tastic Mark VIII sessions in English were boring to no end. Teaching had become far different since using these subliminal-learning machines was proven to raise grades. All the teachers had to do was explain the basic synopsis of the lesson, then the machines took the wheel. However, to Jake and Ellie's utter dismay, Cram-Tastic sessions were hard on the mind; they were as boring as heck.

Finally, after what seemed like eighty-seven hours later, the class ended. Jake, Ellie, and Dave staggered out into the halls, Tolstoy's _War and Peace _burned into the backs of their skulls. In her state of semi-consciousness, the girl bumped into another person, both sets of schoolbooks flying to the floor.

"Hey! Watch it!" yelled a girl's voice.

Ellie snapped out of her stupor to face a girl about her age. Dark, curly hair cascaded over her shoulders, ending below the shoulder blades. She wore a snappy ensemble that matched her teal-green eyes perfectly. An expression of utter scorn was on her face.

"Sorry Gina," said Ellie as she picked up her books.

Gina tapped her foot impatiently. "Well?"

"What is it?" asked Ellie. She was not in the mood for this.

"It's _your_ fault that my books are on the floor; _you_ should pick them up!"

"Why?" asked Dave. "It wasn't her fault!"

"She ran right into me!"

Jack frowned. This was all-too-typical behavior. Gina Gray was widely regarded as the most popular person in Casper High. And for an almost deserving reason; not because of money or prestige. Gina's mother, Valerie, was the Commissioner of the Amity Park Police Department, the youngest ever to hold the title _and_ the first woman. Also, Valerie was being nominated for the FBI's criminal research division, even though her speciality was in firearm combat.

This "hero-child" status gave Gina massive influence over the younger students, who practically worshiped the Commissioner. This was cemented at that moment by the appearance of her entourage: Sue, Peggy, and Alicia. All were basically extensions of their leader's will; as Chrissy had once put it: 'satellites.'

Ellie got up, putting her books into her pack. As she started for the exit, Peggy blocked her.

"You're not going anywhere," said the girl menacingly. "Not until you pick up those papers."

At that point, Ellen Cynthia Fenton ceased all rational thought. Dropping her own books, she squatted down in a fighting stance and knuckled the taller girl right across the solar plexus.

Peggy lurched over, grabbing her stomach and crying in agony. Gina looked shocked and appalled; this was not ladylike behavior.

Jake grabbed his sister by the shoulders before she could do any further damage. "Take it easy," he said. "You already got in trouble for that once. At least this time there weren't any–"

"MISS FENTON!" came a deep voice from down the hall.

"–_teachers_..." groaned Jake.

A compact, muscular man in wire-framed glasses and semi-casual wear loomed over the group of teens. His face looked as though it were hewn out of granite, hard and stern.

"What did you think you were doing?" asked the man.

"But–Mr. Wilkinson," stammered Ellie, "They–"

"Did nothing out of place," finished Wilkinson. "I'll see you in detention tomorrow afternoon. No excuses." And with that, he stormed off to parts unknown.

Ellie, Jake, and Dave looked at Gina and her group; all four had expressions of utter triumph on their faces.

"This _isn't_ over," growled Ellie.

Gina grinned. "It is for you."

As the popular girls strutted away, Ellie didn't bother containing her growl. This was how the school justice system worked: the popular teens getting away with everything, leaving others to take the blame. Their parents had never blamed them for being angry, saying that this very same thing happened to them all too often in their teenage years. Both Jake and Ellie highly doubted that; no adult they knew could remember that far back with perfect clarity.

Jake looked at his watch. The LED read 4:37.

"We gotta get there soon!" he exclaimed, remembering the promise he had made to Dad.

Ellie snapped out of her sulking and ran down the halls with the two boys. Exploding out the quad doors, they found Chrissy sitting on the steps outside. She was twirling a dollar-coin between her dainty fingers, something she was quite good at.

Seeing the three, she spoke. "Hey guys! We goin?"

They answered by taking out their collapsed hover-scooters and transforming them for flight.

"Gotcha." She followed suit. Taking off into the traffic, they made impressive time, reaching the HQ with minutes to spare.

* * *

It was an immense building that seemed to stretch into the heavens, the Fentonworks insignia emblazoned on the roof. A landing platform on the top floor accommodated their needs perfectly, providing benches to sit on as they waited for their host. They breathed in the fresh air; oxygen scrubbers in the bowels of the city reduced pollution by immense amounts.

Then, out of an access elevator, Danny Fenton rode out in his hover-chair, dressed in his standard navy-blue Armani suit. He was a thin man of thirty-nine with gentle, yet cunning features. His long black hair was tied up in a ponytail that stretched halfway down his back and off the top of his seat.

The chair itself was one of Fentonwork's finest accomplishments: specifically created for the aid of paraplegics, it was totally hands-free, controlled by a neural interface that hooked into the spine. A harness around the waist helped to steady the user, should the abdominal muscles be paralyzed as well.

In their father's case, only the interface was used. He floated over to the four teens, kindness radiating from his bright-blue eyes.

"So how are you all doing?" he asked in his deep, resonant voice.

"We're fine, Dad," replied Jake. "So why are we here?"

"I'm glad you asked. Come with me, you four." He floated back into the elevator, beckoning the teens to come with him.

"So," said Dave to Ellie, "you going to tell him about the fight?"

"No," shot back Ellie. "It's better if he doesn't know."

"If I don't know what?"

She turned to see her father staring up at them with interest.

"Oh, nothing," she said innocently as the elevator sped downwards...

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_I really hope that you are all enjoying my work. Please review if you are!_

_Your sincerest regards,_

_Monsieur Caracal._


	4. Chapter Three: Discovery

_Greetings again!_

_Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it!

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_

_**Chapter Three: Discovery**_

Jack Fenton had been described in various magazine publications as spry, energetic, devoted, enthusiastic, and–as _People_ magazine had once described it–possessed of a touch of eccentric charm.

He was acting eccentric today, but there was little charm in it. Instead, the semi-madness related to the incessant incompetence of the robots working on he and his wife's latest project: the Fenton Voyager.

At least, that's what Jake and Ellie were told by their father as the elevator slowed to a stop.

The sliding doors opened with a hiss, and the elevator's five occupants journeyed down a sterile hallway. There were various workers walking past them, clad in multicolored hazmat uniforms. Finally, they came upon a door marked:

**FENTONWORKS RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT DIVISION**

The door opened, and the teens stared in amazement. Beyond a glass wall, dozens of people and robotic arms were at work piecing together what looked like an assortment of vehicles. In the center of the room was a dark-green hover-car with the roof cut open; two robotic arms were outfitting upgraded armor onto the top. Over to the right were two giant vehicles that resembled RV trailers. Both were enormous and sleek, as big as commuter buses, and outfitted with all sorts of scientific equipment and living quarters for four people. One of the trailers was nearly obscured by a shower of sparks cascading from an arc-welding arm. Despite all this activity, the vehicles looked mostly finished; yet everyone could see the upholstery lying on the floor.

"Looks like it's almost done," murmured Danny, floating over to another door. This one was marked:

**WARNING: HAZMAT CONTAINED. DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT REQUIRED GEAR**

Danny turned to his children and their friends. "Now, you guys will have to wear these hazmat uniforms." He pointed to a rack of uniforms on a nearby wall.

Jake took a uniform in his size; it was a glossy black, with white gloves, boots, collar, and belt. Ellie took another that was very similar, only the colors were inverted and the gloves reached three-quarters of the way up the arms. Chrissy and Dave chose two others in the same colors. Danny removed the coat of his Armani suit, exposing a similar black-and-white hazmat uniform.

Opening the door, Danny led the teens into the facility. The smell of ozone, lubricant, and fresh paint filled their noses. Across the room, a hulking bear of a man in a bright orange uniform was bellowing orders to a nearby worker.

"No, no! Look at the blueprints! Rick, you can't place the strut laterally! It has to be crosswise for strength! Doesn't anyone pay attention to these things anymore!"

All three Fentons in the group slapped their hands to their heads in exasperation.

Out of the showers of sparks, two figures emerged. One was a tall, shapely woman with sandy brown hair and amethyst eyes much like Jake's. The other was a bespectacled African-American man with various tools strapped to his belt and a handheld computer under his arm. Both were clad in jumpsuits: the woman blue, the man bright orange.

"Why hello, sweetie!" cooed the woman.

"Hello, Mom," replied Danny, his face turning red.

Dave and Chrissy snickered. Jake and Ellie were used to their grandmother acting this way; she cared for her children more than anything in the world. Judging from old family photographs, the twins had not seen much change in their grandmother's appearance through the years. This was the miracle of modern medicine: sixty-five had become the new thirty.

Danny turned to the man. "How's progress coming along, Tucker?"

"We've had some problems adapting the engines for extended flight," replied the man. "And the gyroscope's been malfunctioning; we can't get the onboard lab to stay still."

"That's not good," said Danny. "The deadline for the prototype is in two weeks. We have to produce a working Voyager to compete with that new Dalv Tank."

"Right." Tucker turned to the kids. "And how are you guys doing today?"

"Oh...just fine, Mr. Foley," replied Jake.

Danny then turned to his children. "Kids, this part gets pretty technical. How about you go over there and sit down?" He pointed to a row of chairs along a table near the chrome wall.

"Alright," both twins said grumpily. They had wanted to see these vehicles from the inside.

Stalking over to the chairs, the four teens sat down at the table as they heard their grandfather barking orders again. "Rick! Did you hear anything I said to you? Put it_ crosswise!_"

That was Grandpa Jack, alright. A real pistol when it came to his work.

He had always been a bit of a bumbling oaf in everyone's eyes. His overeagerness far surpassed his already formidable intellect, and this often led to problems. Without Maddie and Tucker, the projects in the R&D Division might be blowing up on a daily basis. Not that this didn't occur. In fact, that was another reason Fentonworks didn't manufacture weaponry: it always resulted in a horrible accident.

Ignoring the sparks raining down from everywhere, Ellie got her essay out again and read it over.

_Some ghosts tend to their affairs with very little, if any, interest in living beings. Others, however, are vile and malevolent specters that despise mortals and seek to hinder them whenever possible. In recent years, the discovery of naturally occurring ghost portals has not lessened the difficulty of exploring the Ghost Zone, the parallel dimension in which these beings reside._

_The ectoplasm that composes a ghost body is a source of tangible energy found in the Ghost Zone. Using an imprint of post-mortem consciousness, this energy can create a physical form for a departed spirit. However, since the laws of physics in this dimension are different from those in the spectral dimension, ghosts are able to alter their ecto-bodies, becoming as tangible as living matter or a set of microparticles that bypass solid objects like liquid._

_This energy also shapes a ghost's form, which usually resembles its former state in life. But, in most cases, the spectral form is somewhat altered. Some ghosts look kind and angelic, while others are distorted into horrible things. There is thought to be a connection between a ghost's appearance and its morality in life. However, this is not always the case, and any assumptions are dangerous._

"Well?" asked Dave. "Is it all you hoped?"

Ellie looked up from the paper, which she hadn't even finished reading. "Well...I guess."

"That's good," said Jake. "You'll need it to bring that D up."

"Hey! It's not my fault! I fell asleep!"

"That's _exactly_ your fault."

Ellie glared at her brother. She didn't like History, and he knew that. Yet he seemed to have a penchant for forcing his critique upon her work.

Jake, in the meantime, took out Psychology of the Unconscious again, reading the book with a bored expression. Jack's bellow came from across the room, nearly drowned out by a large _crack!_

Turning around quickly, the four teens could see that a cloud of acrid smoke was rising out of the hood of a Voyager. Jack yelled, "_Ground it!_ Ground that thing before you turn it on!"

The bear of a man strided over to the table and sat down, wiping his forehead with a dirty handkerchief. He, like his wife, had not changed much over the years.

"You know," he sighed, "these guys don't get it. That IGD is serious defense."

Chrissy looked puzzled. "IGD?" she asked.

"Internal Ghost Deterrent," explained Jack. "It sends the ectoplasmic equivalent of ten thousand volts across the Voyager's outer skin. Wham-o!" He made a punch in the air. "Takes the fight out of the baddest ghosts. But that kinda power'll blow those robotic arms right off their hinges. Item One-Sixty-One on the glitch list today." He sighed, perking up a few seconds later. "You kids wanna see the Voyagers?"

Everyone's expression brightened. They nodded in reply.

"Great! Follow me! Oh, and be careful."

Jack strode across the room, gesturing towards the equipment. The teens followed behind him. They saw the upholstery sitting outside, among different engine parts and components. It seemed to be made of synthetic leather, as it was waterproof and flame retardant towards the sparks.

Opening the door to one of the Voyagers, the kids were suitably impressed. While threadbare, the vehicles seemed to be designed for exploration and study. They were literally laboratories on repulsorlifts.

Jack explained it all. "For months we've been working on these things. Danny said that they had to be light and strong. Light and strong is not a good combination for something like this. But we're trying anyway with that IGD you just saw. The shell's made of a hard-test reinforced steel. The only thing that can cut through it isn't from this dimension. And the weapons systems–"

"What?" asked Jake. "I thought Dad said you weren't supposed to put weaponry in these."

Jack looked dejected. "Oh, alright. I'll tell Maddie and Tuck to take it out."

The twins knew better. Whenever Jack was told to take a piece out of his things that he believed was essential, he'd put it back in later and not tell anyone. Jake and Ellie were pretty sure that Danny knew about this. But he had never said anything, and Jack never brought it up.

"Whaddya think he'll keep?" asked Ellie. The arc welding robots were hard at work on the roof again.

"Dunno," replied Jake. "Probably the ecto-cannon, like last time."

Another loud _crack!_ filled the air, and everyone did a double take. The cloud of haze coming from the roof of the vehicle was now very obscure. Green flashes of light surged across the skin of the Voyager. Robotic arms was still welding something in.

And, with a loud sound that sounded like a thunderclap, the arms were separated from their supports violently.

Surging with electrical power, they launched off the catwalk they were attached to like javelins. What was worse, was that they were heading right towards Jack and the kids.

Jack had taken notice of this, promptly yelling, "Get outta the–"

The bear of a man was silenced when the first arm connected with his head, sending him back into a steel work bench. The second arm was in the trajectory of the first, barreling towards the kids with its arc welder still on. Dave and Chrissy clutched onto their friends, certain that they were about to die.

Amid the haze of acrid smoke that was quickly filling the room, no one saw exactly what happened next.

Somehow, as if by a miracle, the flying arm passed through the teens like a mass of fog. It crashed behind them, impaling the car-like vehicle.

The four teens felt funny, as though they had been filled with cold water. Letting go of their friends, Jake and Ellie shivered, a bluish mist emerging from their mouths. The indescribable strain they were going through, coupled with that near-fatal accident, was too much.

As they collapsed on the floor, Jake and Ellie heard the shouts of terrified workers, and the calls of their father as the world became murky and dark...

* * *

_Finally the plot takes shape! Please review!_

_Your sincerest regards,_

_Monsieur Caracal._


	5. Chapter Four: Powers

_Good greetings to you all!_

_Here's my latest piece in the Puzzle of my story! I dearly hope you like it!

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_

_**Chapter Four: Powers  
**_

"_Jake? Ellie? Can you hear me?_"

The teen heard his father's voice amid the fog clearing in his mind. The faint, sharp odor of ozone lingered in his nasal cavity. Yet, above all, the air was unnaturally cold.

"_Are you alright_?"

Groggily, Jake opened his eyes. His father and the hover-chair the man occupied were floating above him. He saw that he was still in the R&D Division, in the same spot he had fallen. To his left, he saw that Ellie was still unconscious.

"Ugh..." he groaned, getting up. The hazmat suit clung to his form; it felt different, somehow. "Dad? What happened?"

"The IGD short-circuited the welding arms," explained Danny. "Your grandpa was glanced in the head. Don't worry, he'll be fine. You and your friends are lucky; you could have been sliced in two! Are you okay?"

Jake was about to answer when he felt something cold travel up his throat and down his spine. A wisp of blue vapor, like before, escaped his lips. Shivering, he said, "A bit cold. Where are Dave and Chrissy?"

Danny raised an eye. "Cold?" he asked. "Oh, never mind. Your friends are upstairs, with your Grandma and Tuck. Besides, why are you cold? The temperature's fine."

"Not to me," replied Jake. "It's freezing!"

"Oh my...I'll get Dr. Kwan. He's only three floors down. I'll be right back!" He swerved away on his chair, disappearing beyond the door.

The lab was silent as the grave. What had once been a center of activity was now a desolate collection of scattered parts, tools, robotic apparatuses, and uniforms. It was devoid of life, save for his sister and himself. Their father was right; they _had_ been lucky.

But what had happened?

He shook his sister, who stirred in response.

"Ellie?" he murmured. "Wake up!"

"Mmm...just five more minutes..." she groaned.

Jake sighed exasperatedly. "Wake up, sis!"

Her eyes shot open. Leaning up, she looked around like a rabbit scanning for predators.

"What happened?" she near-shouted.

"Calm down, Sis," mused Jake. "I'm sure–"

Ellie seemed to be in no mood for consolation as she grabbed Jake by the collar of his black-and-white hazmat suit. "WHAT HAPPENED?" Her voice rose an octave.

"I DON'T KNOW!" he shouted back. "LET GO!"

Desire became deed, and Jake slipped right out of his sister's grasp. Yet, there was one thing wrong with that: she had never let go. The collar of the suit just seemed to go straight on through the young woman's fist. Almost..._ghostlike_.

Looking at his hand, Jake noticed something. His hand seemed hazy and translucent, as though it were a mirage. When he waved it around, an aura of tiny particles shifted around it, creating a sort of jet-stream for his hand. Ellie looked scared and fascinated at the same time.

Suddenly, halos of white light traveled along the length of Ellie's body, inverting the color of her jumpsuit. However, that was not all. Her hair, which had once been jet black, was now a shade of white comparable to snow. Her eyes, once bright blue, were now a neon green. Jake started to back away; something bad had happened. He was scared.

Halos of light exactly the same as those that had changed Ellie traveled along Jake's form. His jumpsuit's colors were also inverted, a bright white instead of inky black. Also, his hair and eyes had changed to match those of his sister.

Nobody spoke for a few minutes.

"...Jake..." Ellie finally managed to say, "what happened to us?"

The boy was unable to find an answer; he merely started to hyperventilate with fear. In his state of shock, he had failed to realize that his entire form had become completely transparent. Ellie's eyes widened, and she started to dart her head around.

"Jake!" she called out.

"What is it?" asked the young man uneasily.

Ellie looked in the direction of the voice. "Jake? Where are you?"

"Here."

She walked towards the voice, bumping into her brother's unseen form. The girl would have fallen; in fact, she _should _have fallen. But she didn't. Instead, she floated in midair, as though she were resting on a sofa. Jake became visible, not even knowing how the initial change had taken place.

"You–You–You're..." he stammered, "...floating..."

Ellie had taken notice. She frantically tried to right herself in midair, like a scuba diver underwater. A few moments later, she felt gravity, falling to the floor. Getting up, she looked at her brother, shuddering with fear and cold.

Jake tried to harness his voice. "Ellie," he said as calmly as possible, "something happened. I think we need to calm down and figure this out. Okay?"

Ellie nodded, regaining control of her breathing. The halos of light traveled along their bodies as their emotions quelled, the hazmat suits disappearing. They found themselves back in the clothes they had been wearing under the suits.

"Okay..." said Ellie, trying to control her breathing. "That was just about the freakiest thing I've ever seen."

"Got it," replied Jake. "We have to find out _what_ happened to us and _how_ it happened."

"But how are we supposed to do that?"

"Maybe–" He was interrupted by the sudden return of their father and his physical therapist, Dr. Kwan.

"I'm back! What–" He froze, looking at his two children. "Are you okay? Where are your jumpsuits?"

"Um...over there!" Jake lied, pointing to an identical set of uniforms lying on the floor.

"Oh. Well then, we'd better get going. Dr. Kwan?" He turned to the man whom Jake and Ellie had known him for years as their father's personal doctor after the unfortunate car accident. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, obviously an athlete in his earlier years. Yet the image was a bit contrasted by his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Right then, Mr. Fenton," answered the doctor. "Kids?"

Jake and Ellie walked towards their father. As they approached, blue clouds of mist escaped their lips, sending chills down their spines. Danny noticed the two shivering.

"Something wrong?" asked the CEO.

"Oh no," Ellie answered quickly. "We're fine."

The four left the R&D Division, the mist still coming out of the twin's mouths. For a brief second, Jake and Ellie thought that they saw a similar wisp of mist emerge from their father's mouth. Then again, what were they thinking? Too many strange things had been happening all day...

* * *

_DATA UPLOADING. RECORDING WILL PLAY MOMENTARILY._

Chet U. Calinison, Board Chairman of Dalv Corp., looked intently at the screen through his dark-tinted sunglasses. In the near-darkness of the monitoring womb, his white hair–gathered at the top of his head–shone against the glare of the screens. His skin was sallow from lack of sunlight, contrasting with his black suit.

_UPLOAD COMPLETE. COMMENCE VIEWING, FATHER?_

"Of course," answered Calinison in his obnoxiously nasal voice.

The screen came to life. There was the Fentonworks R&D Division; the Voyager prototypes being welded together in a shower of sparks. Jack Fenton, Joint Project Supervisor, was bellowing orders at engineers and showing a group of children around the station. Chet grinned; all the company's reverse-engineering budget had gone into getting this data.

On the screen, a massive bolt of lightning from a trailer struck a pair of robotic welding arms attached to a catwalk on the ceiling. They flew at Jack and the children, knocking out the man and impaling a scout vehicle.

"Wait!" exclaimed Calinison, "review that image! Slow-mo!"

The video played again at an eighth of the speed; the first arm glanced off Jack's head, but the children were completely unharmed as the robot bypassed them.

"Freeze!"

The image froze on command, the arm halfway past the children.

"Zoom in!"

It magnified. The welding arm was actually _passing through_ the children. Squinting, Calinison looked at a photograph of him and Dan Fenton, CEO of Fentonworks, suspended above a mainframe access port. Chet was grinning madly, holding a giant fish and wearing the necessary gear. Fenton seemed to be sulking, obviously not enjoying the Chairman's company.

"Well well," mused Calinison. "It seems that some _new_ hybrids have finally hit puberty..." He grinned in the darkness, laughing a familiar laugh...

* * *

_Finally! I've got this thing running! Review; I want to hear how I'm doing and how I can improve!_

_Your sincerest regards,_

_Monsieur Caracal._


	6. Chapter Five: Examination

_Hello, again. I've made the decision to scrap my other fic, Paradigm Shift. I've just lost the creative track for it, plus nobody seemed to like it. I don't plan to make that mistake again. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my work!

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_

_**Chapter Five: Examination**_

Fenton Manor is well out of the way of major traffic lanes. Its grand gothic renaissance structure stands out among the country hills, like an English lord's castle of old. However, this old-age style is only skin-deep; inside the walls are nearly every technological convenience known to man or ghost. A science lab, a tech warehouse, and a computer mainframe have been built to assist with various new developments at Fentonworks. And, finally, it has the most state-of-the-art security and defense grid that the company could produce; a small government could be defended with this system.

In the highest spire that jutted from the center of the manor, Samantha Manson Fenton lay on her wine-colored bed, reading Mary Shelly's _Frankenstein_. Her raven hair, while still baring its characteristic ponytail, cascaded down to between her shoulder blades. Far gone from her complete gothic style as a teen, her dresses still bore traits of that dark fashion.

She sighed, putting the book down, marking her place, and hopping off the bed. As the woman stepped lightly down the spiraling staircase leading to the atrium, she saw her twin children run across the polished marble floor. They looked scared.

"Hi, kids!" called Sam from the stairs. They replied hurriedly, but did not stop running, heading for the laboratory wing.

The mother sighed. Her kids usually were ecstatic to see her, since she and her husband were home very little. Running the Public Relations for Fentonworks was a more tedious job that one might think: it usually took you halfway around the world, and that was just after lunch.

_Maybe I'm just being worrisome again, _she thought. _They probably just have homework.

* * *

_

There was much work to do for Jake and Ellie Fenton. They approached the laboratory doors, skidding to a halt on the sterile floor. Engraved across the top doorframe was their grandmother's favorite Latin motto:

_Sum quod eris; fui quod es._

A keypad terminal revealed itself from out of the wall. Jake quickly typed out the code and the door obediently slid open, revealing the wonders inside: a laboratory with teal walls and turquoise flooring, stark white tables lined with scientific equipment strewn about the room.

The twins stepped through the doorway, the barrier sliding shut behind them. Going to the table where Ellie conducted her biology homework, they set up a slide microscope for use.

"Hand me that penknife," said Ellie, pointing to a gleaming metal blade by the microscope. "I'll have to check the blood first." Jake gave the blade to his sister, who made a small cut across her fingertip. The liquid that seeped out seemed to have flecks of green among the red. Dripping the blood onto a slide, Ellie set the piece of glass on the stage, adjusting to high power.

Through the eyepiece, the red blood cells floated freely in their plasma medium. However, something seemed strange: tiny, greenish blobs were attached to the outer membranes of the cells, giving them a pale color like that of minor necrosis. Her second test on her brother's blood yielded the same results.

"Okay," said Ellie, trying to control her increasing stress, "I think this green stuff is what's causing all this. I'll try to find another coverslip. Where are those things?" She searched through a drawer, picking up a beaker that was too large to simply move aside. In her worried haste, the glass tube slipped right through her hand as though it were never there, shattering on the floor. Looking at her hand as though it were gangrenous, Ellie started to hyperventilate again.

Jake, however, looked at the hand with intrigue that he'd not been able to muster back at Fentonworks. "Wait," he said. "This reminds me of something...What did Dave write for you about ghosts? How they can phase through tangible matter?"

"Jake, what does that have to do with anything?" asked Ellie, still trying to control her distempered breathing.

"Look at your hand." Jake held her arm at the wrist, where it was still solid. Below that, the arm was hazy and translucent, little particles floating in an aura around it. Ellie then seemed to realize what her brother was referring to.

"It's intangible," she murmured.

"Yes."

"But how?"

Jake frowned. "I wish I knew."

The sliding metal door opened suddenly, revealing their mother.

"What are you kids doing?" she asked sweetly.

The twins looked towards each other nervously. If their mother found out about all this, who knew what she would do. They might be put on an operating table and dissected like frogs; they could be sent to the police for questioning in ghost-criminal activities; they might just simply be thrown out on the streets.

"Um...no," they quickly replied. And they filed out of the lab, frightened of what they were becoming.

* * *

At 9:00 P.M., both the Fenton children were in bed. Danny and Sam were in their own bedroom, mounted in the spire peak, getting ready for their nightly rest.

"Honey?" asked Danny as he took his shirt off, replacing it with his pajamas.

Sam looked at her husband of fifteen years. "Yes, dear?"

"Have you noticed that Jake and Ellie have been acting strange all day?"

"Yes, actually," replied Sam. "They didn't even stop when they got home from school today. I was thinking they'd want to know how Japan was."

"Very strange indeed," mused Danny. The familiar rings of white light shot across his body once again, the hazmat uniform replacing his night clothes. Effortlessly, he floated out of his hover-chair towards the bed where Sam sat, his legs becoming a spectral tail. He leaned over and kissed the woman he had known as his friend, his girlfriend, his fiancee, and his wife.

Sam found it impossible to imagine what her life would be like without Danny Fenton. She also found it hard to think about her life before she met him. Sure, there were the first five or seven years of her early life when he hadn't been there, but in some form, he _had_ been there. It was as though his spirit was there with hers to provide guidance for guidance; and when they finally met as toddlers, it wasn't so much 'Hi there!' as 'Finally! Where have you been?'

The thought made them both smile whenever it was brought up. All through their marriage they had never lost their friendship, which was an amazing thing to keep.

Levitating out vertically, Danny transformed back into human form, his lower half becoming numb once again. He plopped down beside his wife, who kissed him on the nose.

"Goodnight, Danny," she cooed, turning off the light.

"Goodnight, Sam," he yawned in reply.

Both drifted off to sleep, dreaming their respected dreams. Both, ironically, were about the same thing; the thing that worried them.

_Their children.

* * *

_

_Thank you all for waiting so patiently! I promise to have the next installment up soon! Look hard; there may be a few things to find!  
_

_Regards,_

_Caracal._


	7. Chapter Six: Nightmares

_Sorry about the long wait; I've had somewhat of a busy schedule. But the important thing is that I'm here now, and I nave a new chapter! I hope you like it!

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_

_**Chapter Six: Nightmares**_

On the twenty-first hour of the twenty-first day of November, Ellen Cynthia Fenton sat out on her balcony, breathing in the cold night air. It had been a particularly warm year; the snow was over a week overdue from the norm in Amity Park. Many strange things happened in this city.

Jake had gone to bed over an hour ago, and Ellie sat out here unable to sleep; neither twin any closer to unraveling the mystery about these strange abilities. It was terrifying, one moment knowing exactly what your station in life was and suddenly being jerked out of the norm much as an angler catches fish. The abilities themselves, however, had become a bit easier to comprehend, as are the symptoms of a disease. Apparently, Ellie and her brother had been afflicted by involuntary lapses of intangibility, invisibility, and gravity defiance.

Now that she thought about it, these abilities _had_ seemed familiar when she read over the essay again, at Jake's instruction. She had noted that all ghosts, the spectral imprints of dead creatures, had these abilities–a layman might call them _powers_, but that seemed too endearing–in a more controlled manner and could wield them to their whim. Maybe this disease was ghost related somehow...

Snickerdoodle, Ellie's pet cat, chose that time to hop up in his mistress' lap. Taken with pleasant surprise that guided her away from her previous musings, she began to gently caress the cat's calico-colored fur. He purred in satisfaction, stretching out his six-digit paws and briefly extending his claws.

Ellie looked at Snicker for a moment and sighed. "At least one of us is able to relax," she murmured.

The day Ellie was blessed with this kitten was the happiest day of her life. On a trip to Key West, when she and her brother turned ten, Ellie's mother had taken them to visit the house of late author Ernst Hemingway, one of her favorites. There, over sixty descendants of Hemingway's famous polydactyl cat resided, under the care of the house's owners. In a special deal, Sam was able to adopt a young kitten for the twins as a birthday present. Jake had taken little interest in the cat, being a dog-person. Ellie, on the other hand, loved her little kitten, taking him everywhere she went. She would have taken him to school, as well, save for the strict anti-pet rules.

Squirming around in the manner of cats, Snicker cozied into the crook of Ellie's elbow, his purring creating a calming sensation in his mistress' mind. This was a great time for the both of them: when they could put one another at ease from the troubles of the world.

Ellie looked at the clock. The glowing green LED read 9:17. Very late.

Taking the cat in her arms, the younger Fenton twin–only by eight minutes, as she'll tell you–crawled into the scarlet sheets of her Victorian-style bed, drawing back the matching curtains. Snicker climbed onto her chest, curling up in his nightly resting spot atop his mistress' form. Ellie never minded this, yet her brother could not stand it when the cat did the same to him. Closing her bright blue eyes, she drifted into a vivid sleep...

_Ellie stood in the middle of her elaborate memory palace, the starting point of all her dreams. Her steps echoed on the marble floor, rebounding off the Romanesque columns. It was so peaceful here; it was a place where no one could find her, no matter how hard they tried._

_The memory palace had always been there, and was likely to always be there. She hadn't known what to call this elaborate mansion in her mind until she submitted to Jake's first dream analysis exam. He'd been egging her on about it for weeks, being unable to find another test subject. During the session, she mentioned the mansion as a startoff point in each dream. Jake explained that this was a mnemonic device used in ancient times by certain scribes as a mental link system, also known as the method of loci. _

_The dimensions of Ellie's memory palace are different from others. In most, a certain pattern, defined in Cicero's_ De Oratore_, are used to structure the mind into a discernable form. Ellie's mnemonics do not use this pattern; in a physical sense, her mind palace would resemble the Winchester Mystery House in both architecture and miasma._

_Also, normal mnemonic systems are not present in dreams. The mental house of Ellie Fenton is only accessible in this state of unconsciousness. One time, after she sustained a concussion from crashing her scooter, she had stayed here for over three days in a state of torpor. During that time, she'd come to know this place like the back of her hand. She also knew that not everything in here was safe; some things here were dangerous._

_Tonight, she did as she always did before her dreams set off: she rest her head against the cool marble flank of Adonis, a statue in the main hall. It had been her favorite ever since she had seen it in the Metro Museum. She had made copies of many other pieces as well._

_But today, something was different here._

_A greenish mist that undulated with lifelike quality drifted downwards from a flight of stairs that led to the Hall of Instinct. In this region, Ellie held her desires, her dreams, and her deepest fears. As she stepped towards this mist, she choked on the smell of lightning, yet persevered. The vapor was coming from a gnarled door at the end of the Hall, carved from ancient mahogany. She opened the door, and a ghostly wraith of a creature stood within, the fog yawning a ghastly stench. _

_The creature was a female humanoid in form and appearance, but its face was nothing human. The eyes were a glowing, neon green, and the white hair gleamed like that of a predator lurking beyond a firelight. The skin set in the face was corpse-pale and seemed to have a hazy quality about it. The rest was covered by a hazmat suit, glossy black with white gloves, boots, collar, and belt. _

_Ellie's first instinct was to back away; the form floated out into the light, bringing its ozone stench with it. The girl tripped on the top of the stairs, her pursuer floating down after her tumbling form. Ellie wasn't hurt; this was _her _dream, after all. Yet the sheer terror radiating from this form was uncontrollable. _

_Then, in what looked like childlike confusion, the thing tilted its head..._

It was then that Ellie Fenton woke up in a cold sweat. She let out a short, high-pitched yelp, leaning upwards enough to dislocate Snickerdoodle from his resting spot. The yelp quickly faded out of hearing, replaced with labored breathing. Somewhere in the darkened room, the polydactyl cat mewled.

Everywhere, the moonlight outside cast eerie shadows around the room. Objects seemed warped from their true proportions, like the figures in a Francis Bacon painting. It all seemed netherworldly; Snicker had readjusted himself at the foot of the bed, his eyes reflecting green light in the most ghoulish of ways.

Ellie looked at the mural ceiling as she lay back down in bed. It was engraved with a replication of Raphael's _Sybils_ portrait; the prophet women in the mural conversing with the infant cherubs. It gave her a bit of calm, as it often did.

But then, for a split second, a flash of green came from the portrait center.

Spots flaring in front of her eyes, Ellie sat up once again, examining the spot where the flash had originated. Nothing.

She looked at the clock on her nightstand. 10:32.

The morbid knowledge that something was afflicting her brother and her bloodstream coupled with the flare of green that had came out of thin air, was enough to ensure that Ellie would not fall asleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

_You know what to do, my friends. I really appreciate you all!_

_Regards,_

_Caracal._


	8. Chapter Seven: Revelation

_Good news, everyone! I've decided to make the chapters a bit longer, in order to streamline my writing. This fic's gonna get pretty long otherwise. Enjoy!

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_

_**Chapter Seven: Revelation**_

Chrissy Kwan was waiting outside, as usual, for her friends to arrive the following day. This particular afternoon, however, she sensed something was amiss. Jake and Ellie were behaving as though they had the weight of the world on their shoulders: tired and apathetic towards life. In fact, they looked paler ever since that narrow encounter yesterday at Fentonworks.

That was probably it. They'd become nervous after all that. Their grandfather _had_ been hit across the head, after all.

The bell sounded, and Chrissy got up from the school's front steps, watching out for the signature red vest and violet sweater that belonged to Jake and Ellie. Instead, what she saw rushing towards her was a gray t-shirt that always meant trouble for anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot of its owner.

"_Kwan!_" Tyler shouted at the fair-haired girl.

Chrissy groaned. She'd been spotted. Now, the only thing to do was to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "Ty, before you say anything–"

"Your article on counter-GW was due yesterday, Kwan!" Ty rumbled. "Either get it in tomorrow, or all our grades will suffer!"

Tyler Shaw was another student in Chrissy's News Media class, appointed editor of the news-site. He was also known to say that he led a life without apology; this tended to mean both that he never regretted any decision he made, and he never apologized to _anyone_. He didn't think he needed to.

Chrissy made another attempt to disengage. "Ty, I'm late for..." She struggled to make up a fictitious appointment.

"However," Ty continued, "that's not why I'm here. Where're those two Fenton kids you hang out with?"

Chrissy just frowned. With Ty, less was always better to say than more. However, this proved to no avail, as the news hound's head shot to one side, spotting the two kids like a trained foxhound.

"Ellie! Jake!" he shouted as he rushed towards them. His erratic gesturing made sure that his body was in perpetual motion. "I heard we just had us another accident at FW! That makes–what? Eight in just under a month?"

It was obvious that the twins wanted nothing to do with Ty. "_Back off!_" Ellie shouted, pushing him away. She stomped past him, Jake following with his head lowered. He nodded to Chrissy as he passed, taking out the strips of metal that formed the hover-scooters.

"What side of who's bed did they wake up on?" asked a voice from behind Chrissy. She turned in surprise to find Dave, a confused expression on his face.

"I don't know," Chrissy sighed. "I think it's their grandpa. He was hit pretty bad yesterday."

"That can't be it," replied Dave. "He was fine, remember? Up in the med ward, he was already rushing back down to salvage the Voyagers; those aren't typical concussion symptoms. It's something else. Something bad."

Chrissy got her hover-scooter out, saying, "We'll ask them once we get to Baxter's. Better hurry; Hurricane Ty's on the rampage again."

The pieces of metal unfolded into the hovering scooters, and the four took off, leaving the annoying news-buff behind on the quad.

* * *

The good seats were fortunately available that day at Baxter's. Student turnout today was at a low, as it usually was on Fridays. Another factor was the relatively close date of Thanksgiving; people had dinners to prepare and relatives to invite in a couple of days. Jake and Ellie, however, always had Chrissy and Dave over to their house for the holidays, so there was no need to help.

After each person ordered their usual coffees, Chrissy was the first to speak.

"So..." she started, trying to approach this in the best way possible, "...how'd that report turn out, Ellie?"

"Fine," Ellie replied bluntly. "Just fine."

The blonde-haired girl frowned, asking, "Ellie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" she blurted in reply. "Nothing's wrong!"

Chrissy was wide-eyed. "Then why have you two been acting so weird?"

A pause.

"Look," Jake said. "Something's going on that we'd rather not talk about. Okay?"

"Jake, we talk about everything, don't we?" Dave asked. "Remember when your great-grandma died and you didn't come out of your house for a week? When you talked to us about it, you got over it. Remember?"

The male Fenton twin disliked this memory above most others. The passing of Grandma Ida was probably the saddest memory Jake could remember. It was unbearable for his mother, as well; she'd idolized her grandmother, who was the only member of her family who advocated her individuality. Without her, Sam and Jake slipped into utter despair, holing up in their respective rooms for such a long time that their friends were the only people who could bring them out of it.

Unfortunately for Jake, the revival of this memory set off his intangibility by accident. The Styrofoam coffee cup he'd been holding phased through his fingers, spilling its scalding hot contents directly onto his lap. Yelping from the hot liquid, he used up all the napkins in the table side dispenser drying himself off.

"Sorry!" Dave said. "I didn't mean to–"

"I-It's alright," Jake replied. "Actually, there has been a problem."

"What?" Chrissy asked.

Jake was about to reply when Ellie started tugging on his sleeve.

"Jake; may I speak to you for a moment? _Now?_"

Ellie got up, motioning for her brother to follow her to an unoccupied booth. When they were out of earshot, they spoke in hushed voices.

"_Are you out of your mind?_" Ellie whispered urgently.

"Ellie," replied Jake, "they're our friends. They deserve to know."

"They won't be our friends for long if you say anything! Once they find out we have some sort of disease or whatnot, they'll never see us again!"

"Ellie, I don't think this is a disease."

A beat.

"What?" Ellie asked, still hushed.

"I looked at the blood sample again this morning," he continued, "while I was in the chem lab. That green stuff in our cells; that's ectoplasm. It doesn't seem to have any viral quality to it. In fact, it's bonded with our very DNA. These so-called symptoms are actually_ powers! We have ghost powers!_"

This struck Ellie with the force of a cannonball. "Ghost powers? How could we have ghost powers?"

"That, I'm still working on. But that's not my point. Ellie, I think we can _control_ these abilities! Try concentrating on your hand. Try making it intangible. I want to see if it'll work."

Ellie raised her hand to eye level, taking care to shield it from her friends' view. She concentrated on it, thinking _Phase! Phase! Phase!_

As though made of mist, her hand became hazy and translucent. She passed it through the steel table, justifying its incorporeality. A small smile passed her lips.

"Ghost powers..." she murmured. "You try!"

Jake followed suit, his hand becoming insubstantial upon his concentration. He smiled, matching his sister. "Now what do you think we should do?"

Ellie thought a moment before saying, "We'll tell them. But we have to keep this secret; if anyone knew, we'd probably be strapped to a government operating table within the week."

"Agreed."

* * *

The Fenton mansion was abounding with activity. Every member of the hired help was shuttling food, drink, and decorations to and fro between the labyrinthine rooms. It was hard for Jake and Ellie to find an empty place were they wouldn't be heard. Finally, they came to the lab, the one place that was never decorated, and closed themselves off from the rest of the house.

"Alright," Dave said impatiently. "You guys had better have a good reason for dragging us here! We'll be late getting home!"

"Trust me," replied Ellie, "you'll want to see this."

She took the slide with the blood sample out of a drawer, putting it onto the stage of a microscope. Ellie then told Dave to look at the slide and tell her what he saw.

"What are those little green things?" he asked, peering into the eyepiece.

Jake said, "It's ectoplasm."

Dave brought his head up, staring at the boy as though he'd touched down from Mars. "The stuff ghosts are made of? What's it doing here? Whose blood is this?"

"Ours."

Jake concentrated with the utmost force, trying to make his body intangible. Instead, twin halos of light shot across his body, transforming his clothes into the jumpsuit he'd worn yesterday. The only difference was that the colors had been inverted. Ellie stared at him for a moment; her brother bore a frightening resemblance to the creature she'd seen in her dream last night.

Chrissy touched Jake's shoulder as the boy looked at his attire; when she brought it away, a sort of vapor the same color as the suit gravitated towards her hand away form his body. It was as though he were made of dry ice.

Ellie decided to try this out as well. Concentrating hard, her clothes disappeared in a sweep of white light, becoming a hazmat suit similar to Jake's, but with inverse colors to his. Dave looked at her with a combination of awe and admiration.

"Cool..." murmured Chrissy. Her voice was barely a whisper. "But...how'd this happen?"

"We don't know," Jake said. "But we might need your help with controlling these abilities. I haven't been able to hold anything breakable without dropping it, today."

Dave struggled to find words. Finally, he said, "We'll do what we can."

"Oh, and this is_ just_ between us," Ellie said sternly. "Promise you won't tell anyone. Alright?"

"Fine, we promise; don't we, Dave?" asked Chrissy.

"Okay. It's our secret. We'll work it all out this weekend. Now we'd better get going."

The four left the lab, dodging servants left and right to get to the door. As the Fenton twins said goodbye to their friends, they never noticed a floating light of green hovering from just under the chandelier...

* * *

_I hope you like this! I also hope you take the time to tell me your thoughts! I thank you all!_

_Regards,_

_Caracal._


	9. Chapter Eight: Infiltration & Indecision

_**Chapter Eight: Infiltration and Indecision

* * *

**_

_Dear Diary,_

_I've been getting a heck of an education lately. Learning how to use these powers has been both confusing and exhilarating. Quick example: in the hot tub the other day, where I do most of my thinking, I tried using my intangibility. It was possibly the most glorious thing I've ever felt in my life! It was like I was a part of the water! _

_Now for the bad news: those crazy dreams haven't stopped. In fact, they're getting worse. Not only does that girl stare at me, but she actually says stuff to me. She seems to be lecturing me about something or another, but I can never remember what she talks about when I wake up. Weird, isn't it?_

_Jake's not troubled like that. In fact, he's seemed a bit more optimistic ever since he got these gifts. Finally! I was beginning to think he'd never get outta that slump! He takes caution with these abilities, more so than I do. I don't really appreciate him calling me reckless because of that fact. In response, I said, "When Christopher Columbus discovered America instead of China, did he go back and forget about it? No! He marched into Mexico, tore down their city, and stole all of their gold!" Then he tells me it was Hernando Cortez who ripped apart the Aztec Empire, and says that I need to study more. Real mature._

_Anyway, the reason I'm going on about this is that we're kinda at an impasse. At least, that's what Dave calls it. He's so weird, and we're the ones with ghost powers! But, I feel as though I should do something as a result of these abilities. It's been getting harder and harder keeping this secret from our parents. There have been too many close calls with our flimsy alibis already. Maybe we should tell them. They might not dissect us, after all. I mean, my mom used to free lab frogs from the school bio class all the time when she was a kid. _

_If not Mom and Dad, then maybe a teacher? Definitely not Mr. Wilkinson. He's got it in for us. I swear that he has a valve in his office that alters the water pressure in the school drinking fountains which he uses to spray students in the face. I haven't been able to prove that...yet. Maybe Mrs. Watts? No; she runs the Media class. Tyler 'Little-Muckraker' Shaw would find out somehow. Then, he'd spread it across the news-site like mud. Coach Cable? Not with Thor 'What's-The-Big-Deal-It's-Just-A-Misdemeanor' Stapleton on the football team. That guy's scum. The biggest jerk I've ever met._

_Maybe telling someone else isn't the answer. But we have to do something. _

_But what?

* * *

_

Jake Fenton looked down from the balcony as a sea of well-dressed people gathered in the main hall of Fenton Manor. A multitude of colors could be seen against the standard green and silver decor. Friends, family, business associates, and more were among this near-infinite sea of partygoers, all here for the annual holiday charity ball Jake's family held every year.

"Jake?" Chrissy asked from inside the doorway leading to Jake's room. "Are we going to practice or not?"

The young heir tore himself away from the balcony, heading into his room. Jake's domain was a world of research; the room was dominated by a state-of-the-art computer that hooked directly to the Fentonworks mainframe for speed. The module itself had numerous modifications and add-ons, including a webcam, scanner, stereo, laser-printer, and wireless compatibility with any handheld computer. In the age that banished paper, Jake was also one of the only people to have a library in his room with true books. _Psychology of the Unconscious_, _DSM-V_, and Dante's _Inferno_ were among the many titles.

Plopping down on the purple sheets of his bed, Jake sighed deeply. The last month had been chaotic, a power-related accident happening almost every other day. And, as a result, Wilkinson made sure that the accident-related teen had detention on a near-daily basis. This was getting far more complex than anyone wanted it to be, not to mention the fact that the source of the powers had still not been found.

"It's time to practice!" Chrissy announced. "Come on, Jake! We gotta get to Ellie's room!"

"Her room was the last area," Jake replied dully. "Today, it's mine. Let her come here herself."

"That was last week. Today, we practice in Ellie's room."

"Oh, fine." Jake said grudgingly. Leveling off the bed, he started down the hall with Chrissy to where Ellie's room was. As they passed the staircase that led down to the grand atrium, Jake turned his head, once again looking down into the sea of people like a Roman senator. Unfortunately, this averted his attention from the person walking across his path, and resulted in an awkward collision.

Reeling back, Jake said, "Sorry–" but stopped his apology when he saw whom he had bumped into: a pale, white-haired man standing head and shoulder above the two teens. His stark-white hair was shaved at the edges, gathered at the top of his scalp in a messy ponytail. A white, cyberpunk-style cloak was draped across his shoulders, covering a black microfiber trench coat that covered all but the green latex gloves on his hands. But perhaps most noticeable were the cheap aftershave he wore and the dark-tinted, polycarbonate sunglasses that stood out in his corpse-pale face.

"There is no apology necessary, child," the man said grandly. His voice was high and nasal, as though he were talking in a permanent, obnoxious falsetto. "The accident was entirely my fault."

Jake wasn't moved. "Just what exactly are you _doing_ up here, Chet?"

"Who?" Chrissy asked.

Jake started to explain. "This is–"

"Allow _me_, child!" the man interrupted. "Little girl, _I_ am Chet U. Calinison; Dalv Corp chairman and technology supervisor! I am looking for Dan Fenton, this child's...how do you kids say it..._old man_."

Chrissy stifled a laugh. "Well..." she said, snickering at Chet's painfully outdated slang, "they're probably downstairs with the rest of the guests."

"Ah, thank you, precocious little one! Now, I must be seen...I–I mean meet Fenton!" The Dalv Corp chairman then started down the stairs, his cloak billowing behind him.

"I _can't_ believe Dad keeps inviting that guy," Jake muttered as they started walking again.

"_I _can't believe he wears green gloves with a black suit," Chrissy added. "That's just tacky."

* * *

_INFILTRATION SUCCESSFUL. BEGIN SEARCH._

The laboratory of Fenton Manor was seen in shades and intensities of green. Many different gadgets and blueprint screens could be seen scattered on tables throughout the lab.

But there was a different mission to be done.

_COMMENCE ECTOPLASMIC ENERGY SCAN._

The light changed from green to a rainbow hue; different energy signatures could be seen in order of red to violet, depending on concentration. A rather large blot of violet was in a far corner of the lab. As it got larger inside view, the heavy _clank_ of magnapeds could be heard.

_TARGET FOUND. BEGIN APPREHENSION._

The view switched to green again, but at a softer hue. Where the mass of violet had been, there was high-tech vault system armed with so many alarms that even the slightest touch might set off the klaxons at the Pentagon.

_EMP ARRAY ONLINE. MAGNA-PULSE: MAXIMUM INTENSITY._

The view of green suddenly became brighter in a column above the line of sight. With soft whirring, the alarm systems shut down. The electronic lock started to beep randomly, opening after only several seconds. A cloud of liquid nitrogen smoke wafted from the open vault, revealing a steel canister much like a thermos. Various dents were in it from where the prisoner had tried to escape. Monogrammed across the side was a giant letter "V".

Slowly, the canister was lifted out of its support stand, disappearing from view below line of sight. A soft click was heard, followed by the sounds of the alarm system restarting itself again.

_MISSION COMPLETE. RETURN TO BASE. FATHER WILL BE MOST PLEASED_.

* * *

Jake touched down to the mahogany hardwood floor, his training session over. Passing by Ellie, who handed him the computer that contained today's records, he sat down on the bed as his sister assumed the stance in the same spot he'd been in.

Taking a stopwatch from his pocket, Jake exclaimed, "And...start!"

Ellie Fenton let her ghost form explode out of her. Lifting smoothly off the ground, she began to fly in a tight circle around the miniature chandelier as Dave clocked her speed with a handheld radar gun.

"Eighty...six miles per hour," he announced. "That's seven faster than last time."

Halting in midair, Ellie proceeded to turn hazy and blue, walking through the chandelier, her bed, and her wall as though they weren't even there.

"Intangibility is working perfectly," Chrissy chimed.

Passing back through the wall, Ellie halted above her bed, disappearing from view entirely.

"And invisibility is a go," Jake murmured. "Seems we're getting better."

Ellie sighed as she transformed into a human again, landing on an easy-chair. Snickerdoodle leaped up into her lap, stretching out in earnest. "It still doesn't change the accidents," she sighed. "The only reason we're not in detention right now is that the Christmas vacation started."

"Don't you worry about it," Jake said. "I'm sure there'll be a learning curve, but it'll flatten out in no time."

Dave proceeded to place the radar gun back into its case. The device had come from their parent's lab, and they were sure to become suspicious if it went missing. In fact, most of these recent power drills had been going on in the lab itself, just to save a bit of time.

"Alright, sis," Jake said as he sat down on the bed. "Spill. What's wrong?"

"Why?" Ellie asked.

"Because you have that look in your eyes you always get when you're contemplating something. Now what's wrong?"

Ellie sighed deeply. "I dunno...I just feel kinda...empty."

"Empty?" Chrissy asked. "Why?"

"I...can't really describe it. It's like..." She couldn't exactly find the words to describe the situation. The situation that rendered her helpless with conundrum over the effects of this recent turn of events. "...never mind," she finished. "It's not important."

"It's just too bad poetry isn't the answer to everything," Jake said ruefully. "I have tons of it."

Jake withdrew a book titled _The Hollow Men_ from the shelf, turning to a page he had marked. "It's like Eliot says:

_Between the conception_

_And the creation_

_Between the emotion_

_And the response_

_Falls the Shadow._"

There was silence for a long period of time before Jake added, "Then again, maybe it _is_ the answer to everything, after all."


	10. Chapter Nine: The Portal is Opened

_**Chapter Nine: The Portal is Opened

* * *

**_

Looking over the preparations, Nicolai Technus smiled. Ever since he had been commisioned by Dalv Dorp to create a process to unite a person with a ghost, Technus had spent every waking moment he could spare working on the hyperbolic gas chamber that now stood before him. A marvel of engineering, if he said so himself.

"Sir," he called to the darkness of the room, "we are ready to begin!"

Out of the shadows stepped Vlad Masters, dressed in a pair of green trunks. The years had been incredibly kind on him, though not without taking their toll. Wrinkles creased most of his face, and he now sported an incredibly shaggy moustache in addition to a scraggly beard.

"Good, good..." Vlad murmured. He walked–leaning heavily on his cane for support–towards the gas chamber. The lighting spheres fixed inside made it unnaturally bright. "You're sure this will work, Nic?"

"You will have the honor of being its first subject, sir!" Technus replied.

This didn't offer much in the way of consolation. Still, it was the best chance Vlad had to regain his former strength. Ever since that nasty incident at Reichenbach Falls all those years ago, he'd lost the only thing on Earth that could ensure the fruition of his efforts. The only thing that would allow Maddie to be his...

He stepped into the chamber, lying down on a cold, steel slab. Two pairs of straps, lined on either side of the table, entwined themselves around his legs and chest. He was now hooked in.

Beyond the glass barrier, Technus was typing in calculations, readying the process. From a secure steel case, the technomancer withdrew a small steel canister marked "V" in bold red, plugging it into a hatch near the barrier.

As Technus monitored Vlad's vital signs, the billionaire himself had his eyes set on a petri dish below the gurney to which he was attached. From this, a purple, noxious gas arose, creeping lightly up towards his body. As the haze rose upward, Vlad could see it forming a face; a familiar specter, its mouth twisted into a demented grin. He wasn't afraid. He was actually joyful. Taking a deep breath, he allowed three words to escape his lips:

"What kept you?"

Vlad breathed in and out, and the gas flowed through his nostrils. For Vlad, it seemed as though it were leaping into his mouth like something alive. Already he could feel that familiar feeling coming back to him; that familiar sense of invincibility, the mindset of his forty-year-old self. Outside the glass, he could hear the steady rhythm of the vital signs start to increase. He didn't need this as proof, as he could feel his pulse racing in his throat.

Slowly, the gas started to dissolve as Vlad breathed it in. He could see Technus at his station, grinning with such dementia that Vlad wondered if he wasn't overdue for his distemper shot. He could see the vital signs, glowing green in the darkness outside. He could see himself in the glass, already more virile than he had been before.

As the gas drifted into nothingness, the gurney upon which Vlad lay tilted upwards so that his body was vertical. A part of the glass opened, and Technus strode through, holding a handheld computer. Looking up at Vlad, he asked, "How do you feel?"

Vlad said nothing in response, concentrating upon the familiar concept he needed to escape his bondage. Like liquid, his body passed through the straps encircling his body, and then through the glass barrier into the darkness. Another bout of concentration; in an explosion of shadow, Vlad Masters was gone. In his place was a vampiric figure with blue skin, white clothing, black hair, and blood-red eyes.

Vlad Plasmius was reborn.

This was his setting: the darkness was inviting. Seductive. It allowed him to maintain his utmost focus in these situations. However, the darkness was never complete. In the gloom, the violet light issuing from his form cast an eerie miasma upon the laboratory.

"I feel wonderful, Nic," Vlad murmured silkily. "It's amazing how an old suit can make you feel like a whole new man."

He took a moment in silence.

"Is the new portal ready?" he asked after what seemed like an eternity.

"Of course, sir," Technus replied. From across the room, a light-switch flipped on, bringing with it dim illumination. This meager light revealed a pentagonal device, complex wiring enclosed within. Vlad flew over to it, manning the activation console. Technus took command of the generator, clasping his gloves around the superconductors.

"Ready?" Technus asked.

"When you are," Vlad replied.

Power coursed through the generator, culminating inside the pentagon. Vlad looked at the readings: everything was going fine. The energy started to take a cyclonic form, gaining in consistency and size inside the device. A flash of green cast light through the lab, emerging from the maelstrom of energy that was now swirling inside the pentagonal rim.

Technus gaped. "Magnificent..." he gasped.

"Yes," Vlad said. "It _is_ magnificent. It's also what we need in order to draw out our young friends..."

* * *

The bell sounded through the halls of Casper High, signaling the start of B-Lunch. Getting up from their seats, Jake and Ellie Fenton walked out of the much-hated math class, down the hall that led towards the quad. Only making a short stop at their lockers to gather their lunches, the twins were quickly outside, Dave and Chrissy sitting at the group's regular table under the dome that protected them from the outside snow.

"Hey, guys!" Chrissy hailed, waving her hand.

"Hi there," Ellie replied, sitting down adjacent from her brother.

"So," Dave said, "I presume you two didn't do well on that test today?"

"Miserable," Jake replied. "You'd think we'd get at least passing grades! What does Wilkinson have against us?"

"Dunno," Dave said. "The 'evil, soul-sucking monster from another dimension' theory is still open."

The four let out collective laughter. In this joyous moment, Jake had failed to realize that he'd made the table intangible. As his sandwich started to fall, he reflexively swatted it away from his lap, and it flew over his shoulder. Regaining his composure from the laughter, he saw that Chrissy and Ellie's eyes were staring, horrified at what was behind the male Fenton twin.

Turning around, Jake saw the object of their fears: Thor Stapleton, quarterback of the Casper High Ravens, was wearing Jake's sandwich. Lettuce was on his shirt, mustard in his hair, bread on his shoulder, and murder in his eyes. Towering down over everyone at the table, his piglike gaze was fixed upon the boy who was responsible for his current condition.

"_Fenton!_" Thor roared, picking the boy up by the collar of his vest.

Nearly knocking the table over, Ellie shot up from her seat. "Put him down, meathead!" she said, indignantly.

"Make me!" he said defiantly.

Growling with anger, Ellie stomped around the table to face the hulk who now held Jake in a death-grip. Her fist flew at the boy's chin, but was caught by a strong, feminine hand. A hand that belonged to Alicia, Gina Gray's crony.

"Let us handle this," Alicia rasped. From Thor's table, Gina Gray herself had been positioned near the quarterback, and was trying to talk some sense into him.

"Stapleton," she said, "put him down. Do you remember what happened last time?"

"Who cares?" Thor replied. "This kid threw–"

A faint vibration shook the ground beneath them. Alicia looked at Gina and said, "Does this city run on a fault line?"

"How should I know?" Gina answered. "I'm not a geologist."

"That's _seismologist_," Jake corrected, slipping out of his vest and landing on the ground.

The vibration increased in intensity, accompanied by a growing rumbling sound. It sounded like a freight train was barreling down upon them.

Almost unnoticed, a wisp of blue vapor escaped the twins' lips. They felt the cold travel up their throats, wondering what was wrong with them now. They didn't know exactly what this misty breath meant, only that it put their bodies into shivers. However, as they looked towards the area where the rumbling was concentrated, they saw clearly why this phenomenon occurred.

Two animals, looking nothing so much as giant green octopuses, were lumbering around outside the dome on their tentacles. As they eyed the dome and its inhabitants with animalistic cunning, they passed through the sheet of rounded glass as though it were water.

_These things..._ Jake thought. _They're...ghosts..._

As the ghostly octopuses roared, sending Thor running for his life, Jake, Ellie, Gina, and their respective friends stood rooted to the spot in fear. They had lost all ability to move.

From out of the snowy sky, a smaller, humanoid form dove towards the dome, passing through it in a similar fashion to the octopuses. As it hovered above the quad, its form became more apparent. It appeared to be an attractive teenage girl, sporting blue skin, black pigtails, a pink hairnet, and blue suspenders. Her red eyes glowed with ghostly energy as she stared down at the children below.

"I AM BOX LUNCH!" she cried obnoxiously. "Mistress of all things edible and square! You shall all fear my power, puny mortals!" She cackled with glee, her arms outstretched, her gloved hands glowing green. Food all across the quad circled the girl in a cyclone of meat, bread, vegetable, and drink.

"And now," Box Lunch proclaimed, raising the malestrom of food above her head, "BEWARE!"


	11. Chapter Ten: The First Fight

_**Chapter Nine: The First Fight**_

_Grisly attack at Casper High! Ghost Wars start anew!_ Somewhere in the back of his newshound's brain, Tyler Sanchez Shaw was still writing the marquee. He'd been at his laptop when the attack started, typing out his next scathing review on the restroom smokers who'd been found. Nothing could draw his attention when he was writing. _Nothing._

Nothing...except a screaming teenage ghost and her pet ectopuses.

Now, Ty was cringing like an unhappy puppy beneath his table on the quickly cooling quad. Why did it have to be now? This was the last day of school for the year! He didn't want to spend it dead!

And now, the craven, ambitious, annoying little newsboy really hoped for another hero...

* * *

Bringing her hands down, Box Lunch sent a rain of government-approved food down upon the hapless teenagers of Casper High. Screams filled the air as edible material of every sort struck people with the force of cannonballs. Half of the screams changed to moans of pain and anguish.

By subtly using their intangibility powers on the group of people around them, Jake and Ellie managed to save a few people from the meteorlike chunks of food. Gina and Alicia ran off, finding cover beneath a nearby table, while the Fenton twins were dragged by their respective best friends to whisper behind a tree.

"What are you waiting for?" Dave whispered with urgency. "_Do something!_"

"Like what?" Ellie asked.

"I dunno, just fight those things. Or something..." Dave said.

"Fight her?" Jake asked. "Did you see what she did to everyone? We'll be torn to shreds!"

"But you _have_ to do something!" Chrissy said, matching Dave's urgence. "If you don't, then who will? The police aren't equipped to deal with this kind of threat; only the Army has that kind of hardware!"

Jake considered this, knowing Chrissy was right. Ever since the Ghost Wars, naturally occurring ghost portals had been shut wherever they were found. The government demilitarized with its ghost-weaponry, leaving it to special requisition with military forces. Nobody had the capacity to deal with a ghost-related threat anymore.

"Ellie," Jake said after what seemed like an eternity permeated with screams. "She's right. If anyone can do this, we can. We_ have_ to."

Ellie paused. Behind her eyes flared green flame. "Got it," she said.

Culminating the trigger thought in their minds, both teens transformed in a burst of haloed light.

They knew their purpose now. The rest was mere detail.

* * *

Box Lunch touched down on the quad, examining her handiwork. The two ectopuses her parents had recently bought for her followed obediently. Now, after all these years stuck in the Ghost Zone, they'd actually get to have a bit of fun.

Cackling with glee, the ghostly teen said, "What a joke! I'd heard that the humans were actually_ equipped_ to handle ghosts! Not likely; for I am BOX LUNCH! Bow down before my spectral might, lest you be baked, frosted, and hermetically sealed FOR ETERNITY!"

She had begun to cackle again–which succeeded in frightening a lot of people–when a young man's voice came from behind her:

"Box Lunch, was it? Hate to interrupt your villainous rant–and it seemed you had a ireally/i good one going there–but it's time for you to leave. _Now._"

The self-proclaimed Mistress of All Things Edible and Square wheeled around on her heel, facing two children about her age in piebald hazmat suits. She arched a raven brow in amusement.

"Well, well..." she mused. "And what is _this _ridiculousness? Two little ghost children wanting to play the heroes? Love to!" She took off into the air once again, gesturing to the green cephalopods. "Waste 'em."

With a roar of nether worldly quality, the ectopuses shot forward, lashing their tentacles like whips at the ghost children. As they did not have time to concentrate on the thought that made them intangible, nor the reflexes to dodge the attack, the green tendrils struck home, sending each ghost child into a separate lunch table.

Once again, Box Lunch cackled. This seemed to infuriate the ghost kids, who leaped up into the air, rushing towards the ghostly animals like comets. The sheer impact of the attack threw the animals back into the glass dome, where they promptly splattered against the glass like burst tomatoes.

_Okay,_ Boxy thought. _Time to switch tactics..._

As she positioned herself in the center of the dome, the ghostly teen summoned forth all her might and all her power, causing a sea of edible matter to circulate around her in a centripetal orbit. For a second, she felt like the center of the universe. Quickly, the matter compressed around her form, glowing green with her ghostly power. When the process was complete, Box Lunch was gone, and a giant colossus of food stood in her place.

"IT'S LUNCH TIME!" she exclaimed with great relish.

* * *

As Ellie hammered into the pulpy mass of ectoplasm that had been an ectopus with her gloved fists, she noticed a rather unusual sound: a wet, stomping noise, like an elephant walking in quicksand. Turning around, she and Jake saw what looked like an enormous four-legged, winged monster–much like a griffin–that appeared to be made out of the collective lunches of the Casper High student body.

"Okay," she said, "this fight has officially become weird..."

The monster charged, narrowly missing the ghost twins. Its charge, however, was enough to spiderweb the glass of the dome, sending the ectopuses back into the center of the quad, where their pulpy masses regained original form.

"Sis!" Jake called from quite a distance away. Ellie flew to meet him, ignoring the three recuperating ghosts behind her. "This isn't working," he said. "We'll have to change strategies. I'll fight the monster, you fight the ectopuses; got it?"

"Why do iI/i have to fight those things?" she complained. "Why can't _you_ do that?"

Jake was about to retort, when three simultaneous roars reminded them of the problem at hand.

"We'll argue later." He turned to face the ectopuses. "Right now, we have work to do. I'll take the ugly one." With that, each charged to fight a different set of ghosts.

Jake flew straight into an ectopus, only to be ensnared by the other's tentacles. As it slammed him through a lunch table, he saw Ty Shaw's face uncomfortably close to his. Grimacing, Jake shot away from the annoying newshound, taking the ectopus along with him. It was amazing how light these creatures were in comparison to their strength. Taking advantage of this, he swing the monster in an enormous arc to meet its kin, splattering both into a giant ball of goo that wriggled in pain.

Meanwhile, Ellie was doing her best to dodge the swipes of the food-monster's french-fry claws. As she continued to give ground, the golem stalked forward, deliberate as a logger. Each step was a blow, as each blow was a step.

Then, she got an idea. Using the cracked dome as a springboard, she launched herself at the creature, delivering a powerful kick to its temple. It lurched back, and Ellie searched for the place she saw Box Lunch disappear.

"Do you remember being born?" she asked above the creature's roaring.

"No, you fool!" replied Boxy from somewhere inside the mass of food. "Of course I don't–"

"Then it went something like this!"

Reaching into the mass of edible material, Ellie soon found what–or, rather, _who_–she was looking for. With one giant yank, she pulled Box Lunch, headfirst by her pigtails, out of her self-created 'body.' As the teenage ghost screeched, Ellie gestured to her brother to meet her at the top of the school roof.

"You and I are going to have a little talk," she said, gripping the ghost by the straps of her pants.

Boxy growled, reaching inside the pocket of her suspenders. From there, she withdrew a condiment packet, much like those given out at restaurants. She gripped it tightly in her hand, which started to glow. Ellie wondered what was going on.

_Oh no..._ she thought.

The ghost threw the packet at her captor, whereupon it exploded in a massive fireball. Ellie went intangible to avoid most of the blast, but was still knocked back until she skidded into the ground.

"HAHA!" Box Lunch laughed from above. "Sorry I don't have time to gossip, but my pets and I have an appointment coming up! And you..." She charged another packet in her hand.

"_You_ have appointments with Old Man Winter!"

She hurled the glowing packet at the cracked section of the dome, where it exploded like a grenade. Glass, then snow and freezing air rained down upon the students. The downdraft was enough to render Jake and Ellie flightless for a few seconds; long enough for Box Lunch and the ectopuses to make their escape into the blizzard, the former laughing maniacally above the roaring wind.

As injured students lurched, hobbled, or ran into the safety of the school depending on their injury, Jake and Ellie dropped behind a nearby tree, changing back into human form, exhausted from the entire ordeal.

"That...was...fun..." Jake panted.

"Depends on...what you think...is fun..." Ellie replied.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_Something happened today. Something big._

_According to my history book (which I haven't read in over a week), the last recorded ghost sighting was at Chicago about fifteen years ago, at the end of the Ghost Wars. After that, the UN started to search out portals to the Ghost Zone and shut them artificially. They were never supposed to escape._

_But Box Lunch? Ha! There's a name that'll strike fear into the hearts of millions! At least it was only someone like that and two ghost brutes. But still, the fight was hard. Grandma taught me a bit about Judo, Aikido, and Karate when I was eight, but even that wasn't really effective against those monsters. I might have to rethink my strategy._

_But that's not why I'm writing. The reason why I'm writing is that I think I've found what we can do with these powers: fight evil ghosts. The police, government, and Army are still trying to figure out where she came from, and by the time they udo/u figure it out, the entire planet'll probably be overrun. _

_Me and my brother, that's another story. We can take this fight to them before any of the authorities can. We can stop them. We have a more level playing field. All we need is more control over these haywire abilities. That's all._

_On the bright side, at least we have the break to train. No Thor, no Gina, no Ty; nobody who hates us! I'm looking forward to being a hero!_

_As soon as I get my room cleaned up..._


	12. Chapter Eleven: Descent Into Mystery

_**Chapter Ten: Descent Into Mystery

* * *

**_

"Jeez Ellie," Jake complained as his sister looked once again at the microscope slide, "you've been staring in that thing for hours! It's already half-past midnight!"

Ellie ignored her brother, adjusting the piece of glass on the stage once more. As she looked from a new angle, the result was the same: blots of red and yellow, flecked with green.

"It just doesn't make any sense," she yawned. "I can't pinpoint exactly _how_ this ectoplasm got into our bloodstream. I haven't been able to find any blood samples from before the accident, so there's no way of telling what the difference is. At least, not with these." She gestured to a row of blood slides from medical donors. "We need _our_ blood for that."

She tossed the slide carelessly aside with the others. "I don't believe it. I just don't believe it. It's been over a month since we got these powers, and we still have absolutely _no_ idea where they came from or _who_ or _what_ is responsible."

"Sis, don't beat yourself up about that," Jake said. "Besides, it might be better if we don't know. What if we did, and it turned out to be something bad?"

"What? Like we're some kind of spy planted by ghosts to destroy all of humanity?"

"That's a little negative, but yes. Like that."

Ellie raised an eye. "You don't really think it'll be something like that, do you?"

"I hope not, but it might not matter anyway. Did you see that article Shaw posted the day after the attack?"

"About how we're just a group of punk kids who only care about wailing on each other? About how we're a menace to both our societies? About how we should be shoved back into the foul abyss from whence we came? No; what did he write?"

"Oh ha ha," Jake said sardonically. "The point is that a lot of people don't seem to appreciate what we did. They think we're as dangerous as Box Lunch."

"You know better than to flatter that teen. She's crazy."

"Shaw appears to say the same about us. Considering the damage to the weather dome we caused, I can't entirely blame him."

A buzzer on Jake's watch sounded off through Ellie's room. The green LED read 12:37 P.M.

"We'll have to get back to this later," he said. "We'd better get to bed."

"Got it," Ellie replied. "'Night."

As she put the microscope away, Ellie saw Jake leave from out of her eye's penumbra. The room became a bit more desolate upon his absence. Ellie knew that one she went to sleep, the dreams would start again. Her mind palace had changed in the last month. The eerie miasma that was cast upon the halls of her id was spreading. Her palace was split between two warring halves of her mind.

But the split wasn't even.

It favored the id.

* * *

Vladimir Masters has been known as many things. Venture capitalist, international tycoon, world-renowned dilettante, military provider, and even asylum patient have been among the many hats he has worn.

Inside, Vlad is none of these things.

Inside, Vlad is what is collectively known in the Ghost Zone as a _halfa_. An abomination of nature, a half-living fusion of human physicality and spectral power. His mind is in two: the superego that is Masters conspiring with the id that is Plasmius.

It was this way for nearly thirty years.

Now, it begins anew.

Right now, the aforementioned halfa was in his office, picking out a suitable ensemble for the meeting he had been waiting for over a period of fifteen years. Those years were absolute torture on the man. Not only did he not have the power to gain what he wanted, he wasn't even entirely _sure_ what he wanted. With that part of his mind effectively nullified, his mind shattered.

Now, it had been rebuilt. Now, Vlad Masters was _exactly_ sure of what he wanted. Now, he could finally _gain_ what he wanted.

All he needed was the will to take it; no matter what or who stood in his way.

As Vlad switched into his trademark designer's suit, red mist permeated his sinuses, spilling out his nostrils. The scent of artificial lubricant followed along with it.

"Hello, Nicolai," he said silkily.

Sure enough, when he turned to face the entrance to his office, the self-proclaimed 'Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping' was standing in the doorway. His cyberpunk uniform, undercut ponytail, and dark-tinted sunglasses were unmistakable anywhere. As he walked in, a heavy _clank clank clank_ accompanied the _clack_ of the black boots he wore.

"Hello, Vlad," Technus replied nasally. "I trust that you're ready for your little..._trip_."

Vlad groaned. It was only Technus' mechakinetic expertise, tactical knowledge, and love of infamy that had kept him on board the Dalv Corp train for so long. He'd nearly bankrupted the company with this stupid project of his, as well as with the construction of his legions of personal bodyguards. However, Vlad wasn't going to let a few random personality quirks ground his efforts he'd worked on for so long.

"Yes, I'm ready Nic," Vlad replied. "Your robot had better be ready as well. It's already cost us too much."

"Don't worry, it's ready. Disable cloaking device."

A metallic creature that bore a strong resemblance to a huntsman arachnid appeared in the middle of the room. Its body was a small, elliptical disc of metal, surrounded by six tentaclelike arms, three green claws serving as each 'arm's' fingers. On the front of the ellipse, there was a thin, cablelike stalk, a cylinder on the end that sported a green lens.

"Greetings, Mr. Masters," came a cool, mechanical voice. "I am the Heuristically Engineered Experimental Android for Protection, Observation, and Diagnosis. Code designation: HEXAPOD. I have already been briefed on my mission criteria by Father."

Vlad blinked in surprise. "Father?"

"Erm...That's what it regards me as," Technus explained, "since I created it, and all."

"Very well," Vlad snorted. "As long as it does its job correctly, I'll be satisfied."

"I shall complete my task as ordered, sir," the robot said. It then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Vlad wasn't surprised; he'd seen this thing do dozens of tricks.

As he got his black coat from its hanger, along with a matching hat, Vlad turned back to his Chairman of the Board.

"One last thing," he said. "Do you have the masking gas?"

"Of course." Technus handed him a bottle of yellow-greenish fluid that resembled cologne. "It's the one that smells like..." he read the label, "..._night blooming jasmine_."

"Very good." Vlad took the bottle, splashing its contents on places that seemed appropriate. He then screwed the stopper back on, handing the bottle back to Technus.

"See to things over the truce, will you? This particular businessman has a very special meeting."

As he went down the hall, he started to hum a rather unusual tune, followed by the familiar _clank clank clank_ as he went.

* * *

There are many misconceptions about darkness that common people make. Usually, they make these errors in judgement not because of unintentional mistakes, but due to the fact that human beings will do anything to avoid searching for the things that they fear. And one thing they fear is the dark.

One common misunderstanding is the assumption that the darkness is something to be feared. This is not true in many ways. The darkness is merely an absence, an embodiment of the unknown. Humans fear the dark because they do not know what it envelops. However, the darkness _must_ be used by people. It conceals our true identities, hearts, and souls toward those we do not trust. It also protects us from what we fear by concealing it in shadow.

Another misconception is that the darkness is temporary. Through the ages, night and day have alternated in their never ending dance, burning the thought into our minds that the day pushes away the darkness, and that night itself is only an illusion. Untrue. It is _day_ that is the illusion, the trick of the light. While the sun brings day to the world, darkness requires no such source. It has always been, and it always will be.

But the most important characteristic of the darkness–as well as the most mistaken–is that it gives us the gift of light. Day is defined and glorified by the night it postpones, just as stars are defined and glorified by the shadow that surrounds them. Without the darkness, the light will never be appreciated, never be loved. It will always be hated for the revelation of the horrible truths it shows us. Yet, with the dark, light is embraced with open arms. For darkness embraces the light, and brings it forth from its heart.

The fear of the dark stems from the fact that while the light may emerge victorious, the dark will always win.

Ellen Cynthia Fenton realizes this. As she lies awake in her scarlet-sheeted bed, she realizes that the being she fears resides in these darkened corners of her mind. But in order to find out about the mystery that surrounds the ghost powers that have surfaced out of nowhere in her brother and her, she must journey deep into her mental mansion for a certain sample of blood that she saw as a child.

It's the only way to know what happened.

Ellie must know, even if it means facing the darkness itself...

* * *

_The palace was divided. Divided between light and darkness, favoring the shadows. This reminded Ellie of the planet Mercury, where its slow rotation caused one side to constantly face towards the sun and the other side to face away. _

_But here, the darkness was deep. It fully enveloped the id of the palace in shadows, and was advancing in on the ego. Already, Ellie had felt a little voice in her head when awake, telling her to take Chrissy's brownie at lunch, even though she was her best friend. It scared her that she would even think that._

_Now, the force that told her to steal from her friend had taken hold of the only place that could explain this mystery. Somewhere in the Hall of Science, where she kept all her knowledge of microbiology, that thing was lurking about doing who knows what._

_Swallowing her pulse, Ellie journeyed past the statue of Adonis, and into the darkness._

_It seemed less dark as she went inside. This shadowmass had the apparent consistency of a fog bank, where visibility was bad, but still possible. In the gloom, Ellie could make out the series of lockers leading to the part of her mind that stored her science mnemonics. She followed the sequence–214, 215, 216, 217–until she came across a door emblazoned with the symbol of a hydrogen atom. It was simple, yet memorable. Perfect for the palace._

_Ellie touched the door, which opened on command. Inside was an infinitely long hall lined with desks, filing cabinets, and mountains upon mountains of boxes. It looked like the managing area of a warehouse. She walked down the darkened halls, remembering the old mnemonic links she used with her slides. Finally, after the vampire bat saliva sample, she came across an old slide she'd used two years ago. It had been in her science class, and she had been assigned to take a sample of her blood and look at it under the scope, taking notes on its movement. Sure enough, the notes were there, fastened to the slide with a paperclip. _

_She thumbed through the notes, using another trained link to remember them with exact clarity. The sample had been unusual when compared to the others; it showed excessive amounts of mutated red blood cells unlike any seen before in humans. Back then, her teachers had put it off to sample contamination. Now, she wasn't so sure. The blood cells from the sample were a bit discolored, as though in early stages of necrosis. But they functioned perfectly, just like normal cells._

"_What's the problem, then?" she asked herself aloud. "This semi-necrosis has something to do with it. I just know it. Maybe if I examined it closer..."_

_She took a microscope from a nearby desk, plugging in the light that illuminated the stage. Slipping the glass slide under the viewport, she examined the cells once again. The stated dead quality of the red cells was there, along with the misshapenness. But there was something else._

_Flecks of green among the plasma. Barely visible, but present._

_However, instead of helping to solve the mystery, the slide merely compounded the difficulty. Those traces of ectoplasm were never supposed to be there. The slide was supposed to be a control group used to create a possible hypothesis._

_Now, Ellie was confused, scared, and feeling the beginnings of a migraine. She wanted to get out of this place and relax against the statue in the main hall..._

_An icy, stinging feeling spread up her throat and through her lips, culminating in a wisp of blue vapor._

_Terrified at what this new activation of her ghost-sense could bring–she'd reasoned that it went off when ghosts were close by a few days ago after the attack–Ellie dashed out of the Hall of Science, running aimlessly through the gloom. She was not paying attention or giving a care to where she went, so long as it took her away from that awful form–_

_WHAM!_

_Ellie felt solid wood bite into the bridge of her nose. As she reeled back, clutching the afflicted area, she saw a door in the gloom, hewn from oak that looked like it was still growing. In the center was a section of a poem she was familiar with:_

Footfalls echo in the memory  
Down the passage which we did not take  
Towards the door we never opened  
Into the rose garden.

_The Eliot poem mystified her, as it often did when Jake had read it to her. She reached out to touch the door, and it opened on command. Within was sunshine. _

_Warm, inviting sunshine._

_As Ellie journeyed inwards towards the glare, she could make out a garden, teeming with life. Butterflies, birds, rabbits, and squirrels were among the many creatures that lived in this haven. For a second, Ellie thought she'd somehow found a way through the looking glass into Wonderland._

_She moved cautiously into this storybook room as cute little animals stared at her expectantly. Something here was not right; she never liked these things, even when she was a toddler. There was something amiss..._

"Like it?"_ asked a scarily familiar voice._ "I made it myself."

_From out of the lowermost branch of a nearby tree, a teenage girl hung by the crook of her knees, swinging back and forth playfully. She wore a black and white hazmat suit and bore ice-white hair and green eyes. There was an eerie quality to her, like that of an unopened door in an abandoned house._

"_Who are you?" Ellie asked carefully. _

"Don't play 'little miss innocent' with me," _the girl said sternly._ She dropped out of the tree, striding across the bed of roses. "You know who I am. You've always known."

_Ellie backed away from the girl, her pulse bouncing in her throat like a pinball. _

"That blood sample isn't an aberrant sample," _she continued._ "_You_ already know that, but you won't admit it to yourself. You don't want to think of what you might be. Of what _we_ might be. You're weak. You would never have won that ghost battle without me. You survived because of _me._"

_The rose garden vanished in shadow, its light pooling towards her ghostly id. Light was being drained from the very fabric of her mind palace itself. Ellie was choking on ozone and the smell of decay...

* * *

_

Ellie shot up in bed, drenched in cold perspiration. The room was cast in an eerie miasma from the light on her digital clock, the reading from which read 3:01 A.M. In the corner of the room, she could make out Snickerdoodle, curled up on his sleeping cushion. Shadows stretched and swirled and filled the world.

"What's the matter with me?" she asked aloud. "Jake gets ghost powers, he's just fine. _I_ get ghost powers, I start going crazy?"

She got out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. In the harsh glare of the light fixtures, her features looked weary and thin in the mirror. Bags of puce circled her eyes, which were bloodshot and tired. Her hair was a train wreck, and her pajamas were wrinkled beyond repair. She looked like someone who'd just gone through a haunted train ride five hundred times in a row.

After she got a drink of water, Ellie got back into bed. As she lay down, she remembered what her id had said to her:

_You survived because of _me.

It left her haunted. She felt drained of strength; unable to even summon the effort to get up and read as she usually did when she had nightmares. She looked around her room: it was a mess. It was though primal darkness was claiming the room.

Just as it claimed the garden.


	13. Chapter Twelve: The Test

_**Chapter Twelve: The Test

* * *

**_

Like most secluded enclaves of the rich and famous, Fenton Manor is difficult to find the first time one goes. It lies much out of the way of Amity Park, built in a sylvan forest far away from town. The forest itself is home to a mountain, where a massive coal mine used to turn out tons of the precious mineral year after year. Its main entrance is blocked by high-tech security systems that are not found on the utility entrance four miles away. It is remote and beautiful at once, like a sunset in winter.

On the skyway to the main entrance, a long black limousine streaked regally through the air. Inside the chassis of this car, seated on cushions and Corinthian leather, reading over the newest stock reports, were two men seated in the exact same spot.

They were having a conversation.

_You're sure that Technus's machine can pull all this off?_

_**Positive. He fared quite wonderfully all those years earlier, didn't he?**_

_Yes, he did. He was the perfect scapegoat; just like all the others we used._

_**Thanks to them, even young Daniel thinks you're just an innocent pawn. Fool . . . **_

_Be careful. He's become quite formidable. Surely I don't need to remind you._

_**I'd rather you'd not. **_

_Good. I really don't want to think about all that right now, not when we're so close to victory. Finally! We get to see her after all these years!_

_**Yes, it's wonderful, isn't it?**_

_I just hope she returns our enthusiasm. She still considers me a family friend, along with that flabby oaf._

_**All the better. It'll only make things easier.**_

_What about the children? _

_**We must leave that to Dragon and Mary. They will estimate the abilities of our young friends. We will train one, and execute the other.**_

_Are you sure? Why not keep both?_

_**That's too much of a threat. Besides, if one is destroyed, it will add the perfect taste of melancholy to our protégée. It will be the tragedy that pushes the child over the edge and into our hands.**_

_Very well. You're right. I must be getting sentimental . . . _

_**Don't blame yourself. You and I were separated all those years. It was bound to happen.**_

_I suppose. But remember, this is far more of a risk than setting Box Lunch loose. She didn't know anything. Once they trounced her, she went home crying to Mommy and Daddy._

_**Even better. That will make the farce a walk.**_

_What if one of our operatives is captured?_

_**I highly doubt that either twin will be carrying a Fenton Thermos in their pocket.**_

_Point taken. Look; we're almost there. Shall we?_

_**Indubitably.**_

As the car slid to a stop at the gate, the driver requested to be let in. This was done, and the luxurious vehicle came to a halt in front of the immense estate's entrance. The two men waited until their driver opened the door.

"Thank you, Victor," they said in perfect unison.

"Of course, sir," the driver replied. He was a short, stout man with a gray coif and a bristled moustache. His black sportcoat and green eyes gave an impression of shallow decadence.

The two men walked in tandem up the marble staircase, admiring the decor of the mansion's exterior. Not what either would have preferred, but still very good. They rang the doorbell in perfect unison, waiting but a moment before a woman with raven hair and amethyst eyes answered.

"Why hello, Samantha!" the two men exclaimed. "It's been an eternity!"

* * *

Jake Fenton looked at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He'd just gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. The room was still filled with steam, looking as hazy as Jake did when his ghost powers were active. Drying his hair with a separate towel, it easily fell into the signature "perfect mess" that he'd worn all his life.

It was 9:51 A.M., at least according to the clock on the wall. Ellie had taken more than two hours in here, as this bathroom was one of the only two with a shower. From past experience, this was most unusual.

_She never took that long before,_ he thought. Not that it had any particular importance right now. For _now_, the important thing was getting dressed for their family's annual holiday get-together.

Putting the towels back, Jake switched into another set of clothes and looked down from his balcony. In the foyer were Chrissy, Dave, and their respective parents wishing them goodbye. Also there were two people he'd never expected to see: _Gina and Ty._

The latter two children were standing alongside a tall, statuesque African-American woman who bore short-cropped hair and teal green eyes. She wore a navy suit that bore a shiny badge on the right side of the chest.

_This has to be Gina's mom,_ Jake thought.

As he walked along the open-ended hallway that ran along the atrium and dining hall, he saw a few more familiar faces. Two belonged to his grandparents, Jack and Maddie; another to a woman with bright-red hair, sea-blue eyes, and a burn scar high on her cheek; yet another to his father's chief engineer, Tucker Foley; still another was that of an old man with ice-white hair and high cheekbones; and the last two belonged to his parents.

Ellie, however, was nowhere to be found.

* * *

_Personal log, Dec 22 2029, 10:08 A.M.:_

_Ellie's been acting strange. Today's our annual holiday dinner, and Mom and Dad invited all their friends and family to come. Turns out Commissioner Gray and used to date in high school. Mom didn't seem to like that being brought up._

_I looked for my sis all around the house, and found her hanging ornaments along with the butler. She said hi, saying that she just wanted to do some work to take her mind off things. I asked her what things. "You wouldn't understand." I'm sure that was the response._

_She went down to the dining hall, greeted the guests, and sat down. Me, I'm just writing this before it pops outta my head. _

_Mom's calling me. Gotta go!

* * *

_

"_Jake! I won't say it again!_"

"Alright, alright! I just need to cap this off!" Jake typed the last lines of his latest journal entry on his computer, logged off the program, and went for the dining hall.

As he started down the rotating staircase, he mulled over the recent battle with Box Lunch and how she got free. Nowadays, ectoplasm was considered to have immense strategic value, and devices were created to harvest it. However, the process of collecting the interdimensional energy source was dangerous: the Ghost Wars had rendered practically every ghost livid at the human race.

The latest theory that Jake was working on–as well as the most likely–involved the little ghost and her brute pets escaping though an artificial portal during a harvest. This was a rare occurrence indeed, though not unheard of. And although Jake's own worst-case scenarios had Box Lunch showing up at Fenton Manor for revenge, he knew that wouldn't happen. The house was protected by some of the most advanced security known to man–

_WHUMP!_

Jake reeled back as he tried to discern who or what he'd run into. Standing in front of him, leaning on an oaken cane, was one of the strangest old men he'd ever seen. He wore a fine designer's suit which sported a red handkerchief in the breast pocket, along with a matching fedora. In the crook of his arm, he held a black coat that–presumably–he was taking to the closet.

The first thing that struck Jake was that this old man was very handsome for his age. The second was that this was the man he'd seen in the dining hall just shortly before. His hair was the color of ice, and drawn back in a ponytail not unlike his father's, only shorter. He had high-set cheekbones bordering a sharp cut nose, and a goatee to compliment his hair. Finally, his eyes were a very peculiar shade of blue: the color of a daybreak sky's remnant of night.

"Why, I'm so sorry, little badger," the old man apologized. "My eyesight must be going."

"It's okay," Jake replied. "But...who are you?"

"Masters," the man replied. "Vlad Masters. And you must be young Jacob, aren't you?"

"Um...yeah..."

"Daniel has told me _all_ about you and Ellen. You're quite the bright young ones."

"Thanks...sir." Jake was uneasy about all this. He didn't even know this man, save by reputation.

Vlad took his coat to the closet, which was only a short distance behind Jake. In the boy's opinion, he took a _very_ long time.

"Now then," Vlad said as he came back, "shall we?"

Taught to be polite, Jake escorted Vlad back to the dining hall, where everyone was seated around a massive table of food and confection. He took a seat beside Ellie, as Vlad did by his grandmother.

As the adults started to chat, Jake turned to his sister and Chrissy. "So...what was your problem back in the living room?"

"I _told _you I didn't want to talk about that," Ellie said evenly. "It's _my_ problem, and _I'll_ deal with it! _Comprende?_"

Jake frowned. "We used to be able to talk about everything. Remember?"

"Yeah," Chrissy interjected, "but it's probably something exclusive to _women! _You're not allowed to know!"

Jake was about to reply when that feeling of cold rushed up his throat and out of his mouth; his sister followed suit. Looking at Ellie, Jake thought about Box Lunch and her pets, and the feeling they got _then._ This meant something.

_There was a ghost nearby._


	14. Chapter Thirteen: The Second Fight

_**Chapter Twelve: The Second Fight

* * *

**_

_BEGIN RECONNAISSANCE._

The HEXAPOD's lens flared to life right above the chandelier of Fenton Manor. It had been waiting for this moment. Its programming had stated that should any aberrant ecto-signatures be detected–other than that of Mr. Masters and the other operatives–that it should begin its recording immediately and track their progress throughout the planned combat session.

Its lens turned to one side, widening its view. There, rushing up a spiral staircase, were the two ecto-signatures it had seen on its first mission. _Their quarry had come at last._

_TARGETS FOUND. ALERT OPERATIVES. _

In its crystal circuitry, a brisk metallic voice emanated.

"_HEXAPOD to Mary. Repeat: HEXAPOD to Mary. Do you copy?"_

In its circuitry, another voice answered.

"_Yeah, I'm here. What is it?" _The voice was distinctly irritable.

"_The targets have been driven toward your post. Keep where you are. Tell Dragon to do the same."_

"_Fine. You happy now?"_

"'_Happy' is relative. HEXAPOD out."_

Then, something happened that neither Father nor Mr. Masters had intended: _two other life-forms entered the targets' vicinity._

This wasn't part of the plan. They had to be spied upon as well...

* * *

Jake and Ellie dashed through Fenton Manor, trying to find some place private where they could transform. Not an easy task: around the holidays, servants and decorators were everywhere, going about their business. From the living room to the arcade, there wasn't a single room left unoccupied.

About five minutes into the search, the twins came upon the arsenal. It held a variety of arms and armor from ages past and present: swords, cannons, muzzle loaders, automatic rifles, and ecto-guns. Nobody in the family came in here often; Danny was a pacifist with little if nothing to do with war. In fact, the only reason these relics were here was that the charities the Fentons had donated to gave them to the family as presents.

The children looked at one another and nodded. After taking all that time searching–saying to their parents that they'd forgotten to turn the computers off in their rooms–this room was perfect.

However, as they began to transform, they heard footfalls in the adjacent hallway. The twins prepared for whatever horror they had sensed might come through the doorway...

It simply turned out to be Gina and Tyler.

That wasn't much of an improvement.

Jake sighed irritably. "What do you want?"

"Wow..." Ty breathed, completely ignoring Jake. "You guys have an _armory?_ I'm taking this down." He took a small handheld computer from a holster on his pocket and began typing.

Making a noise of complete irritation, Gina said, "We wanted to know were you two were going in such a hurry."

Ellie said, "We already told–"

"You _said_ you were going to your rooms," Gina continued. "But here you are in a weapons display that apparently..." she wiped dust off a glass case, "...nobody's been in for _years__ཀ_"

"Most interesting..." Ty murmured. "_This _will make a _great_ storyཀ" He chuckled evilly.

"Hey, waitཀ" Ellie said. "You can't–"

"Then why are you being so...strange?" Gina asked. "You seem like you're putting on some kind of Bruce Wayne act or something. What's your deal? You some kind of crime fighter with a cave below this mansion?"

Jake gulped. Gina was getting too close to the truth.

But the gulp was forced back out of his throat by his ghost sense, which spilled out of his mouth along with Ellie's.

The two others stared at them as though they had lobsters crawling out of their ears.

"Is it cold in here?" Ty asked, bundling his sport coat around him with his arms.

Jake's eyes darted about until they saw the source of the frigidness:

A blue, translucent head was protruding through the armory ceiling, staring down at them. It looked like the head of a young girl with dark eyes.

"Uh..." Ellie stammered, "...maybe we should go..."

"Why?" Gina asked. "What's the matter wi–"

A heavy _thud__ཀ _came from the other end of the armory.

Looking past the two nosy teens, Jake and Ellie saw a creature born of childhood's worst nightmares: a red, horned, lizard-like humanoid that was twice the size of a normal human. Its coal-black wings were three times the size of its height in span, and its tail was just as long. But–most disturbing of all–its ghostly aura was red, waving like flames.

Before anybody could act, the twins dove behind an obscure case that housed a variety of dueling swords. Both transformed, the halos of light spreading from behind the display. All along, they could hear the lizard-ghost roaring at Gina and Ty, the teens screaming and running in opposite directions.

Then, a voice came from behind: "Here you two are!" It was sickeningly feminine.

Jake turned his neck to see a little girl made entirely of beige-colored wood. Her wooden arms had glowing blue gossamer strands attached to cross-like puppet controls mounted on her back. Her hair looked artificial, as did her dark eyes and blue dress that looked like it had come from a Shirley Temple movie.

"Oh Draggy!" she called to the lizard-ghost. "I found them!"

* * *

Danny sat next to his wife, examining Vlad from across the table. He hadn't aged much, and didn't look any different save for the cane he used. All in all, he looked very much the sly, cunning archenemy he had come to loathe all these years.

However, there was something different now...

He couldn't pinpoint it exactly. It might have been that his wrinkles gave the appearance of that same old man ten years into an alternate future, or that his eyes had the slight squint of someone who had just seen someone he'd befriended long ago, or that his mood seemed to be genuinely kind...

The point was this: he was different now. And in a _good_ way.

Maybe that little piece of advice was correct. Maybe all a person needed was a second chance.

"Oh, my treatment took quite the long time," Vlad said mournfully to Maddie, "but your son here saw to it that I got the best of care."

Inside, Danny commended himself. He had personally sponsored Vlad's psychological treatment for fifteen years. Now, he had living proof that a person's inner demons could indeed be defeated.

"Well, that's Danny for you..." Jazz paused to sip from her glass. "Ever the caring person."

"Thanks, Jazz," he replied quietly.

After a while, Vlad said, "So...Daniel, how have you and your lovely wife been doing? I heard you'd expanded Fentonworks production after Jack here gave it to you."

"Um–yes!" Danny replied. He didn't really like to talk about business. "Ghost-hunting doesn't turn up much money nowadays, and Sam thought we should do some good with our company."

"Mm-hm," Sam murmured. "I decided to handle public relations. You know, so I can keep it clean."

"Good for you, Sammy!" Jack said from next to Maddie.

Sam shot him a semi-harsh glare. _Nobody _called her 'Sammy.'

"And I trust that the rest of your time," Vlad interjected, "is spent with your children?"

"Yep. They can be a handful sometimes, but they're just like the man I married."

* * *

The lizard-ghost glided over the display cases to meet the Fenton twins. Somewhere, Jake could hear Gina and Ty whimpering about something. As it set down, he could feel that this ghost's aura was so cold that it burnt, and smelt vaguely of brimstone.

"So these are the new halfas!" the lizard exclaimed in a deep tone. His voice was strange, sounding like he was being choked while trying to gargle water at the same time.

"Halfa?" Ellie asked. "What's a 'halfa'?"

"It means 'half a ghost, and half a human,'" the puppet explained. "And your kind have been nothing but trouble for us."

"Our _kind?_" Jake asked. But he never received an answer. A tongue of red flame shot from the lizard-ghost's mouth, nearly engulfing the twins, who were able to dodge the attack by phasing through the floor.

When he and his sister emerged, Jake said, "What are _you_ two supposed to be exactly?"

"I am the Great Red Dragon!" the lizard exclaimed. "The most powerful of the Eragon Amulet bloodline!"

"And I'm Mary Onette," the wooden girl added. "Puppet master of the Ghost Zone. And you two will make the perfect toys to play with!"

Dragon shot another blast of fire breath at the ghost children, and the battle was on.

* * *

"Vlad? If I could be so bold as to ask," Maddie said, "why exactly _were _you placed in a psychiatric hospital?"

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, my dear," Vlad replied. "I was overshadowed for an extended period of time by a very powerful ghost. I presume you know about him..."

"About who?" Jack asked.

Vlad whispered, "_Vlad Plasmius._"

The room fell silent. There wasn't a person in all Fenton Manor, let alone most of the world, who hadn't heard of the leader of the Ghost Zone War Council. The public image painted Plasmius as the evil genius who masterminded the entire war effort for over half a decade without a soul knowing about it.

"I'd rather not talk about any of that," Vlad said sadly. Then, he actually started to cry, bringing his head down onto the table.

"Oh...shh..." Maddie said, patting the man on the back. "It's alright."

"Yeah; if we'd known about that good-for-nothing spook using you as a human meat puppet, we'd have done everything we could, V-man," Jack said.

"...Yes..." Vlad choked. "I owe that to Miss Gray here."

Valerie nodded solemnly, simply saying, "Right."

"I mean it!" Vlad insisted. "Without that operation, I'd probably still be in thrall to that monster..." He began to cry again.

Danny, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Valerie knew better, of course. Vlad hadn't been _possessed_ by Plasmius. He _was_ Plasmius. But still, they thought the story was at least half-true. That ghost that had resided within Vlad Masters' mind had probably been responsible for the influence the man had answered to all his life.

The words of the other Vlad echoed in Danny's mind: _All these years without ghost powers gave me the chance to realize what a fool I'd been..._

"I...I have to go compose myself..." Vlad choked. He got up and walked away, leaving everyone else to eat the main course that had just come out.

* * *

_CRASH!_

A suit of 13th century armor toppled over in pieces as Mary Onette let loose a buzz-saw style attack with her puppet control cross. Ellie had barely been able to dodge the attack, cartwheeling sideways only to partially pass through a glass case of muskets. Mary lashed the crosses out once again, entrapping Ellie in their gossamer threads. As she was swung around in a wide arc, the ghost-girl realized she wasn't able to phase through the strings, leaving the puppet-ghost to slam her through a suit of wicker armor.

Jake, meanwhile, was preoccupied with the Red Dragon, who was demonstrating the ability to shoot ecto-fire out of his fingertips in addition to his mouth. The ghost-boy was trying his best to dodge every blast his adversary threw.

"Listen, I don't want to tell you your business," he managed to get out, "but this is kind of a fire hazard!"

This wasn't exactly true, of course. No piece of material in the armory–save for those few made of wood–were flammable.

However, as Jake threw his witty banter about, the Dragon lashed his whip-like tail at the boy, catching his thigh and flinging him towards a case of cannons. The display buckled upon impact, and Jake heard a scream. A _girl's_ scream.

Looking to his right, he realized that Gina Gray was about to be crushed. Jake grabbed onto her shoulder, transferring his intangibility powers to her body as the cannons passed through them like solids through liquid.

Ellie had managed to free herself from Mary's grip, tossing the wooden ghost into a suit of _kabuto_ armor. Looking livid, Mary lashed her puppet control at the ghost-girl at what appeared to be terminal velocity.

Wanting only to avoid the oncoming attack, Ellie didn't realize that her midriff had taken on a lengthy form, curving around Mary's attack, which stuck into the wall behind her. As her enemy struggled to free herself, Ellie could only think, _Cool!_

She then proceeded to tug on the ecto-gossamer, pulling Mary's wooden form towards her fist. Ellie heard a sharp _crack! _as Mary's wooden nose bit into her fist. Privately, Ellie compared the strike to a paddleball: Mary being the small rubber ball, and Ellie's fist being the wooden surface it impacted off of.

Jake, in the meantime, had found that he wasn't able to get close to Red Dragon, due to the lizard's burning aura. However, the creature's deep laugh and sneering grin bore a deep resemblance to that of Thor Stapleton, which served to strengthen Jake's resolve. Looking around for a suitable weapon, he saw a fire extinguisher laying by his feet, and promptly hurled the device at Dragon.

As the lizard countered the throw with a sharp swipe of claws, the extinguisher exploded in a burst of pressurized foam. The fire-retardant substance covered the Dragon, who roared in pain. When he'd finally managed to get back up, Jake saw that the lizard's aura had receded to a normal ghost level. Taking the opportunity, Jake delivered a powerful kick to the Red Dragon's chin, which brought the lizard to the ground with a mighty _thud!_

"Mary!" the Dragon called. "Let's get out of here!"

Gliding over to the puppet-girl, the lizard enclosed himself and his accomplice withing his enormous wings, disappearing in a flash of red flame.

Jake looked around the room: it was wasted. Many of the weapons were badly damaged, if not destroyed. Glass, charred wood, and pieces of metallined the floor in a chaotic lack of pattern. Gina and Ty were still hiding behind a pair of cases that had miraculously survived the fight.

The twins landed behind another such display, transforming back into their original forms. As they walked out, the two teens who had followed them here crawled from their hiding places like survivors of a recent war.

"That...was...incredible..." Ty said in a shocked tone. "Pulitzer Prize material! Why didn't I bring my camera?"

"Yeah..." Gina agreed. "Incredible..."

Jake decided to say something. "You two alright?"

"Pretty much," Ty replied.

"Then let's go back to the dinner, alright?"

Leaving the room behind, the twins closed the door as the other two teens walked away.

_Man,_ Jake thought. _I _really_ hope they don't notice all this...

* * *

_

Vlad went into a nearby lavatory to achieve some privacy from the many houseworkers in the manor. Bringing his watch to level with his mouth, he said, "Report."

"_The targets are performing well, Mr. Masters,_" came the voice of HEXAPOD. "_Dragon and Mary are retreating as we speak._"

"Very good," Vlad murmured. "Your mission is done. Report to Bertrand outside, and get back in the trunk of the limo."

"_Understood, Sir. HEXAPOD out._"

Vlad looked into the mirror, but Masters didn't appear in the reflection. Instead, Plasmius grinned from the tempered glass, eyes burning with red fire.

_**Was it a success? **_

_When are our plans never?_

_**Good. Phase Two is complete. We'd better get back to the dinner, shan't we?**_

_Of course._

And Vlad walked out, back towards the dining hall, gears grinding in his binary mind...


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Nostalgia

_**Chapter Thirteen: Nostalgia**_

"You _split _yourself from the _middle_?" Chrissy asked.

"Yeah," Ellie answered, somewhat exhausted from the evening's battle. "I never thought we'd be getting _new_ ghost powers."

The four teens sat in Jake Fenton's room, each performing a different activity. Ellie was rummaging through the desk drawers for her old essay on ghosts; Jake was reading the newest publication of _Modern Psychology_ that his aunt Jazz had brought him; Chrissy was running a brush through her blonde, shoulder-length hair; Dave was leaning back in a loveseat chair, trying to stretch out.

Jake snorted, closing his magazine. "That's not the issue for me. In _my_ opinion, it's why _you_ got a new power, and I didn't. It's not fair..."

"Well, _you_ didn't have a crazy puppet throwing saws at you!" Ellie replied evenly, not taking her eyes from the drawer.

"I had a _dragon_ flinging _fireballs_ at me!"

"Hold it!" Dave interrupted. "Hold it... I'm sure there's a logical explanation for why Ellie has a new power; but for now, just get over it, alright?"

Jake snorted again. Dave _always_ took Ellie's side.

"Found it!" Ellie held a short stack of papers above her head. "I knew it was in here somewhere! Now let's see..."

She went through the pages, searching through line after line until–to Jake's eyes–she found what she was looking for.

"Here it is..." She began to read aloud:

"_The principle properties of ghostkind center around the ectoplasm that they and their dimension are composed of. This material, from the Greek term for 'exteriorized substance', was first discovered in the late 19th century by Charles Richet of France. It was described as a strange, glowing pseudopod emanating from the body of a medium, Madame d'Esperance. While the description cannot be confirmed, this was most likely one of the veridic ectoplasm varieties, which are the most common kind._

"_While ectoplasm can be produced by certain prodigal humans, it mostly resides in its home dimension as the spectral equivalent of protoplasm. Studies have revealed it to come in three varieties: cerulic, verdic, and rubic. Each variety created either becomes a part of the Ghost Zone itself, or meets with a compatible consciousness and allows imprinting. Compatibility depends upon the nature of the spirit: cerulic, or blue ectoplasm rarely combines with a spirit, being compatible only with rare emotions not yet found for sure. Verdic, or green ectoplasm is extremely adaptable to either purpose, making up 96 percent of all ghost zone matter and compatible with most emotions of netherworld creatures. Finally, rubic, or red ectoplasm is also rare as a nonliving substance, mostly combining with spirits whose motivations for living cross into the truly malevolent._

"_The variety of ectoplasm a spirit is made up of can be confirmed through a sample of subdermal tissue. A simple analysis of color will yield a result; the spectral reflectance pigment of either blue, green, red, violet, or other light will show the variety with ease. Apart from this, observance of a ghost's abilities will produce a relatively conclusive outcome, since spectral dynamics differ upon the variety of ectoplasm imprinted."_

After she'd finished reading, Jake inquired, "So...what does that have to do with or powers?"

"It means," Ellie explained, "that we can find out our abilities by what kind of ectoplasm we have. From the color, it seems verdic. We might even be able to find out where they came from. I might look something up on that, but your computer's faster than mine. Could you help?"

Jake sighed. "Fine, I guess so."

He looked at the clock's reflection in the mirror: already 10:32 P.M.

"Alright," he yawned, "we'd better get to sleep. We'll work on this in the morning, agreed?"

Everyone made their own agreeing statement, going to their respective rooms for sleep.

* * *

Vlad Masters sat in the lounge chair out on the balcony of Fenton Manor. The full moon hung in the sky, brightly illuminating the surrounding sylvan glade. In view of his eyes, he could see the constellation Orion, its imaginary bowstring plucked beyond Betelgeuse. To his right was Danny Fenton, the boy he knew to a deeper level than anybody else on earth, lounging in a similar apparatus with a blanket across his paralyzed legs. 

In Vlad's eyes, Danny had grown into the spitting image of who Vlad always imagined he would become: ponytail coiled around on his chest, stern yet loving face, fine evening suit, blue eyes that could be either vengeful or kind; magnificent.

Truly magnificent.

"Daniel," he said out of the blue, "how did we come to all this?"

Danny blinked in surprise. "Come to what?"

"You and I used to be the worst of enemies," Vlad said. "Each of us plotted against the other, fought in countless battles, despised each other to the brink of mutual destruction. Heck, my ghost half even brought the world and the Ghost Zone into a war for six years."

"Jazz still hasn't forgotten that, Vlad." Danny seemed very stern at the moment.

"Oh yes," Vlad replied. "Her fiancé. For the record, Skulker did that himself. I had nothing to do with that."

"At least you say."

"I'm _serious!_ Had I but known, I'd have..." He paused. "Well, I don't know what I'd do, but it would avenge Matthew most definitely."

"I doubt that."

"Anyway, the point is I'm different now. I don't have that ghost whispering in my ear anymore, Daniel. I can make my own decisions, let go of old feelings. I'm very happy for your mother and father." In this last sentence, Vlad allowed himself invisible spite.

"Good. So you know how it is?"

"Of course, Daniel. I'm also very happy for you and Samantha. Everyone seemed to know you two would become what you are now."

"Everyone but _us_, you mean."

"And your children are very much like you, aren't they?"

"More or less. They're a bit different; they don't seem to talk to us anymore. We're worried."

"Really? I thought you didn't do that with your parents very much, either."

"Well, that was different. I was a _halfa._"

Vlad's smile was unnoticeable in the twilight gloom. "Of course. And I presume you still are?"

"Yeah. Just not a hero. I haven't been one since college."

"Yes..." Vlad leaned forward, putting his legs on the ground to his chair's side. "I'd better be getting to bed, you know. My doctors say I shouldn't be up this late."

"Right. 'Night, Vlad."

"Goodnight, Daniel."

He walked through the open door, becoming invisible in the shadows...

* * *

Ellie lay in her scarlet-sheeted bed, wondering if she was going to dream. She hadn't been getting full sleep nights for quite a long time, and she had even considered taking medication for it. But she knew if she slept, there would be a chance she'd dream. A chance she'd see that girl... 

Chrissy's rather loud snoring brought her out of these thoughts. Her best friend might have been nice when awake–but asleep, she sounded like a downshifting truck.

The girl in question was laying in a sleeping bag to the left of Ellie's bed. The teens had agreed upon their sleeping pattern when they were twelve: Jake and Dave in Jake's room, Ellie and Chrissy in Ellie's. And every time, the younger Fenton twin had to endure through earplugs her best friend's noisy habit.

_Well,_ Ellie thought, _at least I can't dream tonight._

As she stared at the ceiling, Ellie wondered about that comment Mary Onette had made that evening:

_Half a ghost, half a human._

_Could we be half-ghost?_

The idea seemed foolish, of course, at first. Their grandparents had said that there could never be such a thing as a 'half-ghost' on account of spiritual instability. Then again, they said that humans couldn't have ghost powers, and that turned out to be wrong.

_That's not the question, though. The question is how we _became_ halfas..._

**_I _told_ you that you already knew._**

Ellie's eyes shot wide. She knew that voice. It sounded vaguely like hers.

_What...you...you can't–_

**_Oh but I _can. _You already know what I am, don't you?_**

_My ghost half..._

_**Bingo. Courtesy of your own freakish genetics. You know how I became. Why won't you admit it?**_

_No..._

A tear crept down Ellie's eye. She didn't want anyone–not even herself–to talk to her this way.

_**Why don't you listen to me? Do you remember that you survived Mary's attack because of my power?**_

_Yes, but–_

_**You owe your survival to me. Yet you keep me a secret from everyone. Even your own brother. You must tell someone.**_

_There's nobody I can tell..._

As she began to sob into her pillow, she heard a voice.

But it wasn't the voice of her ghost.

Looking up from her pillow, her swimming eyes saw Vlad Masters in the doorway, his ice-white hair haloed by the moonlight shining in through her window.

"Ellen? What's the matter, dear?" he said, concern apparent in his voice...


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Uncle Vlad

_**Chapter Fourteen: Uncle Vlad

* * *

**_

Ellie didn't remember getting out of bed. She didn't recall carefully stepping over Chrissy or taking Vlad's hand, nor going to the family room, taking a seat in one of the comfortable plush chairs, and waiting for Vlad to come back.

All she remembered was the voice. _Her _voice.

No. Not her voice.

The voice of her ghost.

She sounded nothing like this..._thing_ that tore her apart inside. She'd heard it before she even had ghost powers, back when she'd been diagnosed with clinical depression at age twelve. She'd had dreams about the voice long before now.

But now the voice had a face.

_Her_ face.

Looking into the moonlight column of light that shone in through the ceiling-window, Ellie saw Vlad Masters returning, a glass of water in his hand.

"Here, my dear," he said. "Drink this. You'll feel much better."

She took the glass in her hand, sipping from the rim. The water felt good on her harsh throat.

"Now then," Vlad said, "let's talk. What's been troubling you?"

Ellie sighed, putting the glass down. "I don't know if I can say..." she said, only above a whisper.

"It's alright," Vlad replied. He walked over to a nearby chair, out of reach of the moonlight. Ellie couldn't tell if he'd sat down or not: the reverse mitosis of Vlad's dark suit and the shadows was almost complete. The only thing she could see were the twin blue gleams of the man's eyes reflecting the moonlight.

"I might have gone through the same thing at your age," came Vlad's voice from the shadows.

"I really doubt that," Ellie said.

"Ellen," Vlad said, "your father has told me so much about you and Jacob. You two children are quite the remarkable ones. Just like your father when he was your age. But, of course, we're not always like our parents, now are we?"

_You don't know the half of it,_ Ellie thought.

"The point is," Vlad continued, "that if you can't talk to your father about these problems, maybe you can talk to me. I'm a family friend. There's no need to keep secrets from me. I trust you. Can't you trust me?"

Ellie gulped. She'd never even _met_ this man before, and he was talking about _secrets!_ This wasn't a first-time conversation topic!

And yet Vlad seemed utterly harmless. As though he were some guardian angel in human form sent to help her. He might be right.

_She might just be able to trust him._

"I..." she began. "I keep having...these dreams..."

"What dreams are those?" Vlad asked.

"I keep running into this girl...who looks just like me..." she said. "She tells me horrible things..."

"Hmm...I understand." Vlad said.

"You do?"

"Yes. I had the same dreams when I was in the hospital all those years."

"The psychiatric hospital?"

"No. After college, your grandfather accidentally hospitalized me with some kind of acne."

"_Acne?_" Ellie giggled. "That's what you were put in a hospital for?"

"It was...a special kind of acne."

"In what way?"

"Your grandfather's machine blasted me with ectoplasm, and that caused it. It never went away for years."

"Oh... How'd you get well again?"

"The doctors never found out."

"But the ectoplasm gave you dreams?"

"I never exactly said that. I said that I had dreams _like _yours. Besides, what does ectoplasm have to do with anything?"

"Um...nothing! Nothing at all."

"Very well. I believe this little talk made things much better, don't you?"

"Maybe."

"Alright. Goodnight. Sleep well, Ellie."

"Night, sir."

"Please; call me Uncle Vlad."

She heard Vlad walk away, but she could not see him walk away in the shadows. Her own eyelids heavy, Ellie nodded off on the chair, falling into a merciful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

_The palace rivaled the Taj Mahal in size. Its dimensions were perfected, the walls and doors spaced evenly apart as stated by Cicero. On the dark ruby walls were amber-lined portraits of events in the life of Vlad Masters, including the accident which gave him ghost powers, the years in the hospital, the founding of Dalv Corp, and the beginning and end of the Ghost Wars._

_The men to whom the palace belonged sat in scarlet chairs, draped with fine green linens. A picture of Maddie Fenton hung on the wall beside the first man, who bore white hair, a fine suit, and ice-blue eyes. A new portrait–just made a few minutes ago, actually–of Ellen Fenton hung beside the second man, who had devilhorned hair, a white tunic and cape, and blazing red eyes._

"_She's the one we'll chose, isn't she?" the first man said._

"_Yes," the second replied cordially. "She obviously suffers from what you used to go through. The perfect springboard for the perfect protégée."_

_Two glasses appeared out of thin air, filled with a glowing pink liquid. Each man took a glass, sipping lightly out of the rim._

"_What about the other?" the first asked._

"_We'll leave him to fate, for now. If he gets suspicious, he'll go to Nicolai. Then, we'll fry us a ghost-flambee."_

_They chuckled, clinking their glasses together in the dim red light of the palace.

* * *

_

Jake yawned as he opened his eyes to the eve of Christmas Eve. The sunlight shone directly in his eyes from the bay window, spreading through the room in golden brilliance. He looked around, from Dave–still in his sleeping bag, to his computer, to the bookcase, to the drawers, to, finally, the door.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jake stepped over his sleeping friend towards the door, not caring that he was only in his underwear. He opened the door, revealing his bathroom, and stepping into the shower, as was the morning routine. It was so ordinary that he thought he could walk the route in his sleep, which he often did.

As he let the water run across his skin, Jake started to wake up. His vision was no longer blurry with sleep, and adjusted to the light fixtures of the bathroom. He then started to bathe, wondering about what his sister had presented last night. Could they actually find out what powers they had by their ectoplasm? Could they find out the origins of these powers?

_If so,_ Jake thought, _that'll make our job a lot easier._

He shut the water off, stepping out to towel off. Afterwards, he put on a blue robe, walking back into his room and sitting down at his computer. He then proceeded to type out various searches on the Fenton Mainframe, knowing that the computer situated in the lab was far more efficient than any internet search engine. A few key pieces of info turned up, regarding verdic ectoplasm and its properties.

_VERDIC ECTOPLASM:_

_Verdic (aka. Green Ectoplasm) is one of the more common varieties of spectral matter. First discovered in the late 1600s, it has been found to be the main component of 96 of all nonacting ghost matter and 62 of all ghosts, sentient or brutish. _

_This variety of ectoplasm has proven to be most valuable as a strategic substance, albeit the least expensive form. Its mid-level power output and stability make it suitable for many forms of machinery and weaponry, and it forms the main power component of most spectral devices._

_Ghosts imprinted upon verdic ectoplasm can be assumed to have a wide variety of ties to the real world. Many emotions, ranging from loving to depressed to sadistic, have been attributed to verdic ghosts and their kin. However, ghosts with incredibly malevolent reasons for unsettlement are more likely to be imprinted upon the slightly rarer rubic varieties._

_The ghostly abilities of verdic ectoplasm range widely, telekinesis, energy projection, and metamorphic powers being the most common traits. They are not limited to these, however, as many verdic ghosts have specialized abilities, an example being the 'Ghostly Wail' of the famous Danny Phantom..._

Suddenly, a young woman's voice emanated from behind Jake:

"Whatcha looking at?"

Jumping a bit from his chair, Jake turned his head to see who had interrupted him:

It was Gina Gray.


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Old Ghosts

_**Chapter Fifteen: Old Ghosts

* * *

**_

Jake sat silent, the only sund in the room coming from Dave's breathing and the soft hum of his computer. Here was his sister's arch-rival, standing in his room, talking to him! Why would she be here?

"Excuse me," Gina repeated more evenly. "I _asked _you what you were looking at."

"Um..." Jake stammered, "...I–I was–looking at..._this!_" He pointed nervously to the computer screen.

"Oh." Gina leaned in, looking at the window. "Verdic ectoplasm? You're a ghost researcher?"

"Um–yeah!"

In the background, Jake heard Dave leave the room, apparently not even aware that Gina was there. But then again, he didn't exactly have the best eyesight. Only Jake knew that Dave wore contact lenses.

Gina was studying the window intently. "Verdic is green... Then those ghost-twins must have this!"

"Wha–the who?" Jake stammered.

"Those ghost-kids that made all that fuss at school," Gina explained. "The ones Ty wrote about."

"Oh–oh yeah. He doesn't like them much, does he?"

"You kidding? He calls them the best hit-collectors since the Maine sank."

"He likes them?"

"Apparently they get the press rolling. He says that the people want 'good, old-fashioned good-guy versus bad-guy stories with no depth.'"

"Well, there's something stupid."

"Yeah. I think they're fine, as long as they don't hurt anyone. The boy's kinda cute..."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Cute, eh?"

"I'm not some sort of groupie!" Gina insisted. "I was just making an observation, is all!"

"Right, then." Jake replied incredulously.

"Well why _are_ you looking this up, then?"

"It's...for a report I'm doing."

"Ellie doing the same thing?"

"Why?" Jake asked.

"Not for you to know," Gina said simply.

"Why do you have it in for her?"

"What do you mean?"

"You two have been at each other's throats for as long as I can remember. Why do you do it?"

"Well..." Gina paused. "I think it was in second grade. Ellie took paste from me, so I got an 'F' on my art project. I decided to get her back in a fight."

"The one where you sat on her stomach and made her eat a clump of dirt?"

"Yep." she said proudly.

"You know," Jake said, "she still can't get the taste out of her mouth."

Both laughed at the thought of that little scuffle when they were kids. In fact, that fight was what prompted Grandma Maddie to teach Ellie martial arts in the first place. Now, Ellie could probably wipe the floor with Gina and her friends, provided Wilkinson didn't catch her.

"You're pretty funny," Gina snickered.

Jake started to blush. "Thanks."

"You know..." Gina said, "Just because your sister doesn't like me doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"You really think so?" Jake asked.

Gina smiled. "Yep."

* * *

Jazz Fenton–in her opinion, the only normal person in her family–sat at the small table in the lounge, sipping at a cup of coffee. She hadn't changed from her pajamas yet, and frankly didn't care right now. She had things on her mind.

Things she would rather not talk about.

Things about the war...

The war was what fueled her resolve to protect her family. What took her fiancé away from her at such a young age. What gave her the burn-scar across her left cheekbone.

In all, the war was what modeled Jazz into the person she was.

Who she was, she never figured out.

* * *

_Jazz couldn't speak. She couldn't move. Even thought was impossible._

_There had been attacks. Massive ghost attacks all over the world. From Egypt, to France, to Costa Rica, to Australia, armies numbering in the millions had struck, bringing down seven countries in under an hour. The people there were defenseless; no army on Earth was equipped to face a threat like this._

_A threat that was all too real._

_On the television in her college dorm, a shadowy figure with a deep voice and solid green eyes spoke to the world:_

"_We have no demands. We have no requests. Our kinds cannot coexist in peace while the other remains. Therefore, on behalf of the Ghost Zone War Council, we officially declare war upon the forces of humankind. If you wish to stay as you are, you will fight for your existence. If not, you will experience annihilation. Do not call us terrorists. Do not call us cowards. We are your betters; the betters of all mortals. The world belongs to ghostkind. To us."_

_After the broadcast stopped, people erupted in screams. The entire college dorm population acted as one organism experiencing terminal stroke: panicking, losing control of its form._

_All but one. _

_Jazz quickly dialed a familiar number on her cell phone._

"_Dad?" she asked into the receiver._

"_We saw it, Jasmine!" came her father's voice. "We're going to Washington right now! You stay where you are; we never know where these spooks will attack next!"

* * *

_

_From a distance, it would seem beautiful. Plumes of rainbow colors connecting giant blimps like streamers at a football game. An occasional explosion of fireworks in ornate multi-hued bursts._

_On the outside, it is beautiful. Wondrous._

_On the inside, it's different. _

_On the inside, Jazz Fenton knows this to be a storm. A storm of ghosts led by their world's greatest hunter to overtake the Alps. A storm where people Jazz knows are wounded, captured, or dying. Even gone. From the inside, it's the horrifying feeling that the entire Ghost Zone is trying to add you to its grisly population._

_As Jazz thought about this, her Fenton Wheeler Bike sped along the rocky crag, paying no mind to the steep angle at which it hugged the mountainside. It was a giant wheel, jutted with spikes, and sporting a cockpit on one end, and an ecto-artillery gun on the other. The gun fired potshots at the ghost ships in the sky, led by the infamous /iFlying Dutchmani itself. But above all, Jazz couldn't let them take this spot. She wouldn't._

"_Angel One to Angel Five," she spoke into the comlink on her wrist. "I'm closing in on the stronghold as we speak."_

_In the distance before her, Jazz saw a massive moving fortress. This was where Skulker was, and where she and Matthew would be setting the charges._

"Angel Five reporting,_" came Matthew's voice. "_We ready for this?_"_

"_When are we never?" Jazz asked._

_To her left, she could see another wheeler, piloted by a good-looking man with a helmet and battlesuit. For the most part, the suit looked like a bulkier version of the hazmat suits her parents wore. Jazz commended them, wherever they were._

_As the wheelers sped through the battle, Jazz could see something shiny approaching at breakneck speed. She'd never seen a craft like this, and the ghosts almost never used machines– _

_To her left, Matthew's vehicle exploded in a rush of flame._

_Before she could scream his name, Jazz's wheeler was sparking at the controls. Unbuckling from her crash webbing, she jumped clear from the open cockpit before her Fenton Wheeler Bike became a smoking pile of flame and scrap._

_As she lay there on the desolate battlefield, she heard a deep, raspy laugh. A laugh she knew._

_Skulker._

_As she swam out of consciousness, tears emerged from her eyes...

* * *

_

The tear that came from Jazz's eye at that moment splashed in her coffee cup. She never liked thinking about that day. She might have joined Matthew all those years ago if Danny hadn't gotten her out of there.

The burn scar proved that fact.

The scar had come from a piece of molten shrapnel that had grazed her cheek after the EMP burst destroyed her vehicle. It still stung at times. Times like this...

Forgetting this, Jazz finished her coffee, walking into the foyer. As she went to the coatrack to reach for something warm, she noticed a gift-wrapped box laying at the foot of the door. It was green, and tied up with a golden bow. She picked it up to read the tag:

_To: Ellen_

_From: Uncle Vlad_

_How cute,_ Jazz thought. At least Vlad was normal now...


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Seperation

Chapter Sixteen: Back to School

* * *

_Man, I love this coat,_ Ellie thought as she walked down the halls of Casper High on the fifth day of January.

The very rare and expensive topcoat she wore over her shoulders was made from space-age fibers more resistant to wear than any before them. It was frilled with lavender fleece, which perfectly accented its violet color. These facts alone would make it expensive, but the added feature of being able to change hues in different lighting pushed its price into the hundreds of thousands.

Luckily, a multi-billionaire and friend of Ellie's had gotten it for her. Uncle Vlad had revealed a couple of weeks ago that he'd set up a branch of Dalv Corp in Amity Park. Therefore, he'd be able to visit the Fentons more often now. This coat had been his Christmas present to Ellie, who had accepted it with a 'thank you,' and the biggest hug she'd ever given anyone in her life.

Ellie walked to her locker, the coat changing colors from violet to green in the shade of a nearby door. Putting the coat away, she turned to face Chrissy, whose locker was right beside her own.

"You really like that thing, don't you?" Chrissy asked.

"Yeah!" Ellie answered. "Vlad said it's made from some kind of fiber that reflects blacklight. Gives a chameleon effect."

Dave came up from the hall, books under his shoulder. "You women and clothes," he said dryly.

They made it to History only seconds before the bell rang. Mr. Gardner looked at the students of his class through his rimless blue spectacles. He had a massive, aquiline nose, buck teeth, and hair so wiry that one could scrape two inches of hardened grease off a pan with it. Worse still, his voice was drab to the level where it acted like a sleeping pill.

"Where'd Vlad get that coat?" Jake asked, ignoring the droning voice of Mr. Gardner.

"Somewhere in Italy," Ellie replied. "He said that the fibers in it come from a tree found only in the jungles of Tanzania. It cost him thousands!"

"Mr. and Mrs. Fenton!" Gardner said sternly. "I suppose you find your little discussion more interesting than world history?"

No answer came. Jake and Ellie merely stared politely.

"You know," Gardner continued, "I would expect this kind of behavior from iyou/i, Ellie; but I'm _very _disappointed in _you_, Jake. I'm afraid you two have detention after school. No excuses."

"But–" Jake started.

"_No excuses._" Gardner repeated evenly.

As the class continued, Jake and Ellie lowered their heads, hoping that they could somehow become invisible without someone discovering their secret.

* * *

There is an abandoned warehouse facility directly adjacent to Casper High. Its glory days long gone, it was abandoned five years ago, left standing for a demolition that never came. Now, it juts into the stratosphere along with the other skyscrapers, like a stake driven into the heart of Amity Park.

Inside this building, in a filing suppository on the 38th floor, there were ghosts. Many were here at the moment, but only one is worth mentioning as he stalks along the hallways on talon-like magnapeds. He is a walking suit of battle armor, coal black with the immense heat needed to perfect its ecto-resin. Upon his gorilla-like head, there is a ghastly halo of green flame. His arms reach long, and are bulky with strength. Crystal circutry and kevlar plates make up what is not covered by ecto-steel.

Within this monster is the mind and body of the greatest hunter the Ghost Zone has ever known.

Skulker walked over to the window of the room, talons clinking upon the concrete floor. Raising his arm, a pair of macro-binoculars emerging on a thin robotic arm leveled with his green lenses. Through the binoculars, he could see the ghost children: Ellen and Jacob Fenton, the spawn of his long-contesting prey.

"Hmm..." he rasped, lowering the sight-enhancing device. "A new pair of half-ghosts. Not exactly one of a kind anymore, but they'll make a fine addition nonetheless."

A ring tone of the William Tell Overture emanated from a console on his wrist.

"_Skulker?_" a man's voice asked.

"Yes, Sir?" the hunter replied.

"_Is our agent in position?_"

"He is."

"_And are the alarms nullified?_"

"They were the last time, they are now."

"_Good. After all we went through finding him, I expect some results._"

"Don't worry. He will be more than a match for these two halfas."

"_It doesn't matter. He's merely an instrument. Nothing more._"

"If I may trouble you with boldness, sir," Skulker said, "why not keep both?"

"_The boy is a threat. The girl is weak in her mind; vulnerable. She'll be easier to convince. She will join us by choice. Afterwards, you and Technus can have the boy_."

"I look forward to it..." Skulker growled, raising the binoculars again.

* * *

Chrissy groaned as she looked at the clock. 3:47 P.M. Another thirteen minutes until detention let out.

As she ran a brush through her long hair, Chrissy thought about what she'd done to deserve this. Her and Dave's little experiment with sodium had resulted in a chemical fire that had spread throughout half the lab. The boy in question was sitting at her right, drumming his fingers, while Jake and Ellie rested their heads at the front of the class.

She looked at the clock again. 3:50. Time literally seemed to slow down.

In the meantime, Chrissy had begun on her history homework. They had been going over the Ghost Wars, which had happened only twenty years ago, and they had been assigned to make timelines. She looked at hers:

_First Attacks:_

_Alexandria, Egypt: Skulker_

_Venice, Italy: Penelope Spectra_

_Mexico City, Mexico: Bullet_

_Tokyo, Japan: Nicolai Technus_

_Madrid, Spain: The Fright Knight_

_San Jose, Costa Rica: Victor Bertrand_

_Sydney, Australia: Youngblood_

Another look at the clock. 3:54.

Putting her eyes on her homework again, Chrissy's mind started to wander. She thought about Ellie: she'd been acting weird lately, ever since she got ghost powers. Maybe in time, she'd become a full-fledged ghost and try to blow them away...

She pushed such thoughts out of her mind. Ellie would never do that. iNever./i

A ring sounded throughout the school. The clock now read 4:00.

"Finally!" she said, gathering her books under her arm.

As the four left, they got into discussion. Jake and Ellie had been working round-the-clock trying to discover the origins of their powers. Numerous theories had been proposed: ecto-radiation exposure, extended overshadowing, even a stray bolt from the IGD that blasted the robotic arms at them. Yet none of them made sense.

Also in discussion was what the army was doing when these ghost attacks happened. Usually, the National Guard was called in whenever ghosts ran rampant. But that time at school, the Army said they'd gotten no alarm of a stray ghost.

"What do you think happened?" Dave asked.

"Maybe an alarm failure," Chrissy said. "But that won't happen again. The school's wired its alarms directly to the Amity Park Guard Base."

"Good," Ellie said. "We've got enough on our plates with detention. Our parents are gonna be so mad..."

"Really?" Chrissy asked. "They never yell at you."

"Oh, they can yell." Jake was insistent in his voice.

"If that's true," Dave said, "then I've never heard them."

"That's because they don't yell at _us_ very often." Jake said.

"But they can really punish a kid," Ellie added as she started to open her locker. "You never know when you might be walking into a trap–"

Ellie was interrupted by the barrage of green goo that shot from her locker. It propelled her backwards with such force that, by the time she'd realized what happened, she was stuck to the wall, suspended in a neon-green sac of liquid.

"Wghgahg..." Her voice was muffled from the goo.

"Ellie!" Chrissy said.

"Don't worry, sis!" Jake said, running to the sac. "We'll get you–"

Another blast of ooze shot from the locker, encasing Jake beside his sister.

"Ggagaghgh!" he screamed, muted.

Chrissy looked at the locker: it had what looked like a gun barrel sticking out from it, dripping green slime. However, as it started to move outwards–causing Chrissy and Dave to back up a respectable distance–it was revealed to be what looked like a flute, held by a gloved hand. As the hand reached outwards, it was revealed to be attached to a green sleeved arm, which in turn was part of a being who'd looked like he'd come from a fantasy book.

He was dressed entirely in shades of green: forest-green cloak with a hood that obscured his face; emerald tunic; neon green tights and gloves; everything was green save for two things: a pair of solid red eyes and a silvery flute.

"Well, now..." the being murmured in a Scottish accent. "If it isn't the halfa scum that have caused us ghosts so much trouble..."

* * *

"Pity," the ghost in green said. "Truly a pity. I expected you to at least put up a fight."

Through the green ooze that was making his eyes sting, Jake heard the Scottish accent of the ghost that had entrapped them. He didn't understand; why hadn't their ghost senses warned them of the impending trap? Why couldn't they escape this gloppy substance?

He saw Chrissy and Dave run up to them, trying to dig through this abysmal slime, but they had as little success as he and Ellie did. Bringing the flute to his unseen lips, the ghost tooted out three notes, causing the two other children to freeze, trapped in a glowing aura.

"Silly children," the ghost said. "You cannot hope to free your friends in the presence of the Piper!"

Ellie snickered. "Pgigpgegr?" she said, muffled by the goo.

"It's my title!" Piper said defensively. "Not my name!" He irritably brought his flute up once again, playing five notes. A glowing vortex of energy appeared in the hallway of Casper High, casting green light across everything in the hall.

"Now," Piper continued, "I have business to take care of concerning you two halfas. You don't deserve our powers on this plane. Being able to phase through objects, to defy gravity, to take over mortal bodies–"

"Take over bodies?" Dave asked, still frozen.

"It's called _overshadowing_," Piper explained. "You cannot tell me you don't know how to do that."

Jake thought. He'd heard of the ability innate in ghosts to possess a mortal body, commanding it as though it were its own. He'd also speculated, after a bit of research, that they'd eventually be able to do it themselves. But they'd never really known how to enter a person.

"Now then," Piper said, "to the Ghost Zone with you munchkins!"

An idea popping into his head, Jake let his ghost half explode through his body. The slime prison around him blasted away like a grenade, covering the hall with gooze. Ellie, seeing the result, followed suit.

"What–you little demons!" Piper screamed. He tried to raise his flute once again, but was interrupted by Ellie's fist connecting with his head. He flew through some lockers, disappearing behind them. Immediately, the green auras around Dave and Chrissy disappeared, both children breathing a sigh of relief.

The ghost kids phased through the wall, oddly surprised when emerging in the office of Mr. Wilkinson. Inside was the office's owner, along with Gina Gray, sitting in a chair looking stunned.

"_What the heck is going on?_" the teacher exclaimed.

"Shut it, grandpa," Piper said dryly, and Wilkinson sat down, scared stiff.

Raising the flute to his lips again, Piper tooted out four notes. Immediately, a searing pain filled the heads of both the ghost-twins. In Jake's opinion, it felt like sticking one's head inside a microwave, setting it to HIGH, and waiting twenty minutes as your brain was fried.

Piper took his little move with much glee. "Now, while they're distracted..."

The ghost in green flew towards Gina, dropping his flute as he did so. The pain receded from Jake's head in time for him to see Piper go intangible and actually imeld/i with the body of his month-long friend. She seemed to sway for a moment, temporarily glowing green, before her eyes opened.

They were Piper's blood red flames.

The girl lunged at the still-recovering ghost twins, Piper's voice roaring from her mouth. Jake jumped out of the way, his sister doing the same in the opposite direction. Gina/Piper then faced towards Jake, rushing to engage him in melee combat. The possessor of this girl let out an impressive combination of strikes: right punch, left hook, right jab, left haymaker... It was all Jake could do to keep from hitting his friend as he blocked continually.

"What are you waiting for?" Ellie asked. "Hit back!"

This distraction provided ample opportunity for Gina's fist to connect with Jake's eye, wheeling him backwards through a table, underneath which was a craven Mr. Wilkinson. The teacher whimpered, motioning for the ghost-boy to stay away. Jake smirked at this.

Getting up, he could see Gina and Ellie in one-on-one combat. It seemed as though Piper were doing this as a stage performance, elegantly twisting and diving out of the way like a Shakespearean swordsmaster. Jake could see the marquee: _Piper and Ellie! A one-time-only performance for an audience of two!_

With a swift kick to the jaw, Ellie flew back into a painting, ripping through the canvas. Gina–or Piper, depending on how you looked at it–laughed haughtily, clearly enjoying this fight.

"Well," he said. "I'd love to stay and trounce you two some more, but I have other things to do." He slipped out of Gina's body as though it were an article of clothing, leaving the girl unconscious on the floor. He picked up the flute, sounding off five notes, and opening another swirling green vortex. "Ta!" he said, walking through the shrinking swirl, which promptly disappeared.

Ellie looked at her brother with more disbelief than Jake thought she could even have.

* * *

"YOU LET HIM GET AWAY!" Ellie yelled.

"I DID?" Jake retorted. "_YOU_ WERE THE ONE HE KICKED ACROSS THE ROOM!"

Dave buried his head in his hands as he listened to his two best friends fight. Chrissy sat beside him, a similar worried expression on her face. Their parents might not have yelled much, but _these_ two sure could. It was mortifying to see them like this, but even moreso that this conversation could be heard easily by anyone within a hundred yards of school property.

"I'm telling you, it's not that bad!" Jake said.

"What?" Ellie asked mockingly. "That we got our butts kicked by a ghost we'd otherwise be able to beat just because he possessed my arch-rival?"

"I wasn't going to hit Gina!"

"Why? She's never done anything but boss me around!"

"She might be more than that, you know!"

"Like what?"

"LIKE MY FRIEND!"

Ellie didn't throw back another comment this time. Dave and Chrissy were wide-eyed and open-mouthed. They weren't sure what to make of those three words. Three simple words whose meaning was too large to gather at once.

_Like my friend._

Gina Gray was friends with Jake Fenton?

"I..." Ellie started, choking on her own words. "I...just...go away."

"What?" Jake asked.

"GO AWAY!" she yelled. "I NEVER WANT TO SPEAK TO YOU AGAIN!"

She stomped off towards the table, saying angrily, "Come on, Chrissy."

Both people just sat there, speechless.

"What?" Ellie asked. "You're not my friend anymore?"

"What–no!" Chrissy managed to say. "I'm just...getting used to this, is all."

She got up, leaving with the girl of Dave's dreams...


	19. Chapter Eighteen: Relation and Shadows

_**Chapter Seventeen: Relation and Shadows

* * *

**_

_Personal Log, Jan 10 2030, 6:28 P.M.:_

_My sister hasn't talked to me for days. She hasn't been this mad at me since the great Potato Chip Wars of '25. Back then, she just got angry at me and Chrissy for getting potato chips all over her room. I vote that was the best battle ever during that year!_

_But now...she's just gone to a point beyond angry._

_What's her deal? Just because I'm friends with Gina–who, by the way, is a very nice person–she blows her stack and storms off with Chrissy? (Chrissy's still my friend, but Ellie doesn't know.) The girl's gone nuts! I will never understand women. Ever._

_Otherwise, it's been a pretty uneventful week. I'm practicing overshadowing with Dave and Chrissy–well, mostly Dave, since Chrissy thinks I'll do stuff and blame her–and it's pretty fun! It's like you can use another person as a body! The only flaw is that my voice and eyes stay the same. Oh well._

_That Piper ghost was brutal. I've still got a shiner from where he hit me. And Gina's absolutely mortified–her mother's got her on round-the-clock protection and arming the cops with ecto-guns. Saves me a bit of trouble if they can actually get to the battle in time._

_Anyway, Dad and Mom are leaving for Japan tomorrow and Aunt Jazz is volunteering to babysit. You know what that means!

* * *

_

"WHAAAHOOO!" Jake cried over the roar of the Fenton Wheeler.

The giant wheel-like vehicle skidded along the testing area below Fenton Manor. It was painted metallic green, with red highlights on the crawling legs that were used on rough terrain. The wheel was balanced through a gyroscope mechanism inside the main body, enabling the otherwise impractical device to stay upright constantly. It was developed for the Ghost Wars; nowadays, however, it made quite the stunt vehicle.

It was the motorcycle of the future.

In a world where cars and trucks flew through the air, Jake Fenton was grateful for simpler vehicles such as this one. Even though it didn't float on a static magnetic field, it could traverse any terrain, never toppling to the ground. It was, in short, amazing.

"Wanna ramp it up?" Jazz said over the engine.

"Kick it into high gear!" Jake shouted.

Jazz manipulated a few buttons on the control panel. Instantly, the wheeler sped up, a mighty cry rumbling forth from its innards. Tracks had already been left in the floor from previous laps, but now the wheel was churning up sparks like mud-spray as it careened over the sleek, metal floor.

Jake wondered what Gina and Dave were thinking from up in the control box as they manipulated the obstacle course programmed into the room. They'd already tried jungle, plains, and even aquatic terrain against the wheeler, and it had passed with flying colors, as Jazz had said it would.

Now, the steel floor was morphing and warping into a hilly, craggy, and uneven setting. Jazz grinned, saying, "Hold on!"

She pressed a button, and the claw-footed arms that had been retracted inside the vehicle extended. Once they touched the ground, the wheeler leaped into the air like a frog, easily making it over the artificial crags.

_Figures, _Jake thought. _This thing was built to go over mountains._

As the hills receded, Jazz pulled the monster of a vehicle over, the skid turning up a shower of molten sparks. Inside the arena, a signal horn went off, telling the two kids in the control tower that it was alright to come down for their turns. When they came through the reinforced doorway, Jazz was greeted by collective voices saying, "Me! Me! Me!"

Jake got off the passenger seat. "You already got a turn, Gina. Dave gets to go next."

Gina sighed, "Fine. I like controlling the scenery anyway."

Jake went with Gina back up into the control box as Dave strapped into the crash-webbing. As they looked through the reinforced viewport, they could see the wheeler racing across the artificial landscape, now in the form of an arctic tundra.

"This is all pretty neat," Gina said, smiling at Jake.

"Thanks," Jake replied. "We have a lot of cool stuff here."

"I can see. I just wish we had as much of this."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that... You guys have all this stuff and all this money, and I get jealous sometimes."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Gina said. "It's alright. By the way, that's a pretty cool machine your aunt has. Where'd she get it?"

"She rode one during the war, back when she got out of college."

"Really? My mom fought in the war too!"

"That's cool!" Jake exclaimed.

"Yeah! She used a jet-sled instead of a wheeler, though. I rode on it; very neat!"

"I heard it's handled like a surfboard. Is that right?"

"No. That's a common misconception. It steers from the rear, like a snowboard."

"Really? For all this we have, I don't know half about it."

"That's alright. Where's your sister, by the way? She'd freak out if she saw us down here."

"It's okay. She's at some play with Uncle Vlad."

"Is he really your uncle?"

"No. Just a family friend."

A pause.

"If..." Gina started, but paused. "If you don't mind me asking, how did your aunt get that scar?"

"What?"

"It's alright. I shouldn't have–"

"Oh no! It's fine! She talks about it all the time! She got it from a shrapnel wound."

"Really? Where? How?"

"_That _she doesn't talk about."

"Oh. Alright."

"Hey; wanna change the scenery again?"

"Sure!"

"Let's go with..." Jake selected a lever mentally. "...this one!"

As he reached for the lever, Jake was surprised as ever to see Gina's hand already on top of it. But–for whatever perverse twist of fate–before he could pull away, his hand clasped over hers.

The moment seemed to drag on forever.

Finally, Jake took away his hand, using it to rub the back of his skull.

"Um..." he began.

"It's fine," Gina said. "It didn't mean anything...did it?"

"Um–no!" Jake said a bit too defensively.

As they looked down into the artificial arena set before the wheeler, Jake saw Gina's reflection. He never realized before how cute she looked...

* * *

Ellie and Vlad walked along the upper levels of the opera house, looking for their private seat for this night's production of _Fiddler on the Roof_. At last, they came to a door flanked by two ushers. Vlad didn't need to speak; as he and Ellie drew near, one of them said, "You are expected," and opened the door. 

Inside were a motley crew of people that Vlad had explained beforehand to be part of his Board of Directors at Dalv Corp. One was a sleek-looking woman with red hair who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, her shoulders draped in a faux-fur coat. Another was an older man with silver hair and moustache, bearing muscles upon muscles on his tanned arms. One familiar face was the undercut, the sunglasses, and the cadaverous lantern-jaw of Chet U. Calinison. Ellie took a seat beside Vlad, who sat in the front row away from the businesspeople.

As the actor who played Teyve sang on stage, Vlad leaned aside to Ellie.

"Are you enjoying the show, my dear?" he asked.

"Yep!" she replied eagerly. This was her favorite musical.

As Ellie sat back and relaxed, she took comfort in the knowledge that the voice of her ghost-half wouldn't disturb them tonight. She found that when she was performing an entertaining activity, such as playing a game, exercising, or otherwise, she never heard the voice. Otherwise, it often popped up in conversation, whispering to follow her instincts and lash out. She wondered if this was how psychotics started: hearing voices nobody else could hear.

"Um..." She said, "...Vlad?"

"Yes, my dear?" the man replied.

"Could I talk to you about something? In _private?_"

"Of course." He turned to the businesspeople in the box. "We'd like to be alone."

The men and women filed out neatly from the box. Vlad and Ellie were now alone.

"Now then, dearie, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Well..." Ellie said. "I wanted to talk about my dreams."

"Your dreams? You mean what we talked about a month ago?"

"Yes. They haven't stopped."

"Do you have any idea why?"

Ellie gulped. She knew _exactly_ why she dreamed these things, and she couldn't tell Vlad about that.

"I don't know," she lied.

"Well," Vlad said, "I happen to be quite the expert in psychology, since I studied it in college. Your dreams seem to center around this girl, correct?"

"Yes."

"It seems to me that this girl is a subconscious projection of your shadow."

"My what?"

"Shadow. In Jungian psychiatry, it is an archetype that represents the darker side of human nature. Everyone has one, but it contrasts with our public persona, therefore being unfit for society. Therefore, we cannot often listen to our shadows. However, we call upon the instinctive power they can provide in emergencies."

"Your shadow is like an animal?" Ellie asked. "It empowers you when cornered?"

"Yes. It also acts like a curtain, protecting and concealing what we repress inside our minds. Perhaps the reason your shadow is growing is because you're repressing something."

Ellie couldn't speak.

"Ellie? Is there something you want to tell me?" Vlad asked with the air of a caring parent.

"No," she replied blankly. "Nothing."

"Oh. Well then, you just tell me if you need to talk. Remember: you never need to keep secrets from me, nor I from you."

The girl slouched down in her seat, no longer enjoying the performance of the soloist on stage.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I don't know what to think anymore. I went to see uFiddler on the Roof/i with Uncle Vlad, and he talked to me again about my dreams. He said that I'm repressing something, and that I should talk about it. The only problem is, I can't talk about it with him or anyone else._

_Also, Aunt Jazz was over today. I could tell from the mood Jake was in at dinner; he only gets that way when he rides her wheel bike. I got a turn when I got back, but I couldn't enjoy it. I just went to eat dinner, let Snickerdoodle out for the night, and I'll soon go to bed. I wonder if I'll dream._

_Aunt Jazz tells us that scars have the power to remind us that the past is real. That they're tokens; medals of honor gained in the line of combat. I think that might apply to my mental scars in the mind palace. The floors have been scuffed the last days, ever since I stopped talking to Jake._

_Nothing makes sense anymore._

_Except what Vlad said. That makes too much sense._


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Memoirs of a Ghost Boy

_**Chapter Nineteen: Memoirs of a Ghost-Boy

* * *

**_

Danny Fenton sat in the soft seat of his complimentary suite's chair, pondering about his life. He'd been through a lot in his last thirty-nine years: ghost-boy, college student, war hero, and company president all in one, and nobody even knew about half of it.

Jazz had used to say that Danny was the kind of hero people read about in great literary works: Fearless, dedicated, and mortal on the inside. The kind of hero people might distrust, but that keeps going on anyway. The one that truly matters.

She said that she could think of no better definition for Danny Phantom than that.

* * *

_On December 14th, 2008, eighteen-year-old Danny Fenton was standing on the side of a mountain in the Alaskan Range, staring at the oncoming army of ghostly skeletons bearing down on nearby Anchorage. He'd learned to estimate numbers of people through relative distance and crowd density a few years back; there were at least ten thousand skeletons making up this army. He didn't understand why the GZWC would send their armies here, to such a remote part of the world._

_Then, he thought about it. There was nobody to defend this place. All forces had been pulled south to more strategically important locations. His parents were probably fighting there right now._

_It was just supposed to be a ski trip among friends. Jazz had suggested it from back at Yale, despite the war effort, and it had seemed like a good idea to take away the stress of college life at Northwestern University. The war had been hard on everyone, and a vacation was much needed._

_But this–_

_This _wasn't _supposed to happen._

_Danny put a hand to his ear, activating the comlink attached. "Jazz? Are you there?" he said._

"Yes, Danny?"_ his sister's voice asked, sounding worried._

"_I see it. Technus's army is here."_

"How can you be sure it's Technus?_"_

"_His insignia is on everything."_

_And it was true. Each and every skeleton's armor was emblazoned with the signature 'T' and lightning bolts that were characteristic to the Ghost Master of Technology._

"_I'll try to hold them off until the Army gets here." Danny said._

"Be careful, little brother,_" Jazz replied._

"_Don't worry. Danny out."_

_Danny then stood, letting his ghost half explode through his being. Instantly, his parka, boots, snow pants, and gloves changed into the signature spandex of Danny Phantom. He took off into the sky, scanning the army from about half a mile up. _

_Definitely about ten thousand strong._

_The telltale potshots of ghost flak alerted him to their knowledge of his presence, and Danny dived into the army. Taking out dozens at a time with punches, kicks, and ghost rays, he fought valiantly as the skeletons came at him in hordes._

_Then, they stopped._

_For Danny, this was unheard of. Ghost skeletons usually went by one combat objective: destroy anything that moves. To halt in the middle of a battle would be insane for them. But here he was, in the middle of a war zone, with these monsters standing in a rather large semicircle around him, bearing all the ceremony of a military conference._

_But now, Danny could see why: their leader was coming._

_Out of the sea of glowing green bones stepped Technus, attired in his cyberpunk clothes and bearing his undercut hairstyle and green, cadaverous skin. He walked with an arrogant air, as though he were going to pass judgement upon all beings in this battle like a malevolent dark god. _

"_Hello, ghost child," he said nasally._

"_I'm hardly a kid anymore," Danny retorted._

"_Oh, I'm sorry: _ghost man._ Anyway, I expect your surrender as of the immediate time."_

"_Does that line ever work?"_

"_Sometimes. When it doesn't, the person in question is destroyed. Such as now."_

_Technus snapped his fingers, and three very unusual-looking beings strode out of the ocean of ghosts. They looked like impossibly tall humans, wrapped entirely in dirty gray shawls and linens, giving them a mummy-like appearance. The only thing visible underneath all their wrapping was a pair of solid red eyes. In their three-fingered hands, they each held a lightning rod associated with the ghost who called upon them. Danny had never seen this kind of ghost before, but they appeared to be Technus's bodyguards._

"_What are your orders, Lord Technus?" asked the center bodyguard asked as his brethren fanned out around Danny. Its voice was brisk, yet strangely metallic, as though a man were speaking out of a computer._

"_Kill him," Technus replied simply, pointing at Danny._

_Instantly, the triangle of bodyguards filled with the crackling heads of lightning rods smacking whatever they could touch, whipping around faster than the eye could see. One blow caught Danny on the side of the head, flinging him to the outside of the circle of skeleton warriors._

Okay, _Danny thought._ This presents a problem...

_Rising into the air, the ghost-boy let loose a rain of ectoplasmic bolts at the shawl wearing beings. But this wasn't exactly effective: by the time the smoke cleared, the three were nowhere to be found. _

WHACK!

_A sharp crack of electricity was sent up the length of Danny's arm, leaving a scorch mark and bruise from where the rod had struck him. Turning around, he faced one bodyguard who was now in midair, along with its kin, who glided up to meet their target._

_A midair tackle from one bodyguard sent Danny careening into the ground, pinned down by his opponent's weapon. Lightning blazed from the mace-head as it inched closer and closer to the halfa's face. However, Danny had been in this position before, and was able to push away his captor with a well-placed kick to the stomach. There was a great /iclang!i as his boot connected, and Danny began to suspect that these weren't ghosts after–_

_His thoughts were interrupted by a hard strike to the midriff. Another bodyguard had used his lightning rod as a pole-vault to propel himself at the half-ghost. Once again, Danny felt himself on his back, but was hampered in getting up by the two baton shafts that were pinning his neck to the ground. He could feel the hot sparks on his skin as the guards set their staffs to high power._

_Suddenly, Technus entered his field of vision. "You see, ghost child," he said, "my Marauder-class bodyguards have been programmed with heuristic processors which allow them to learn from opponents. Second, I have equipped them with copies of my lightning rod..." He summoned his weapon of choice out of thin air. "...which allows them increased strength, speed, and electrical power. They act as circuit breakers, channeling your own ghost powers and funneling them back out. Every blast you throw makes them more powerful! And now, your own combat form has bent your neck before my axe!"_

"_Get...off...me..." Danny choked, struggling against the weapons. _

"_No way," Technus replied simply. _

_It was then that Danny remembered something helpful._

_As Technus brought his staff down, Danny turned intangible and phased through the ground. The rod clashed with the two on the ground, culminating in an explosion that temporarily outshone the sun. When Danny reemerged, the circle of skeletons had become quite wider, littered with bones and pieces of shawl and metal. Technus simply stared, eyes growing wide from behind his sunglasses._

"_You shouldn't really broadcast how your machines work, Technus," Danny said. "That's so one–point–oh."_

"_Child, you seem to forget that I am in control here," Technus said. "There are ten thousand skeletal warriors under my command. Anchorage is within my grasp. Once I'm done with you, I will squeeze until this region brims over with the blood of innocent lives!"_

"_You really like the sound of your own voice, don't you?"_

"_Not as much as this..." He held his hands high in fists, as though each one held the ghost-boy's neck. "Destroy him!"_

_The army erupted into a horde of swords and might._

_Danny let himself sink into his combat form. It was simple, yet effective: a mixture of different fighting styles he'd observed over the years, whether it be from real life, television, or his own design. It followed no set pattern, merely using whatever was most effective for the situation at hand. Such as now, he used the form he'd used four years ago on a similar army of skeletons at Pariah's Keep: target waves and areas, not one soldier._

_But then, he'd been empowered by the Ecto-Skeleton._

_Here, he had no help._

_He noticed that the soldiers were getting their hits in, as well. Whether by sword, spear, or arrow, he was injured, ectoplasm dripping from open wounds. The sea was beginning to close in around him. He had to think of something before he drowned._

_Then, he remembered another trick._

_It wouldn't work twice, but it would do._

_Clearing the army of ghosts, Danny took off into the air, drawing in breath. In one fluid motion, Danny let out a roar of power, which transcended into the attack his ghost persona had become famous for:_ the Ghostly Wail.

_Aiming the sound wave at the army below, Danny closed his eyes, not seeing thousands of skeletons being reduced to ecto-mist and dust. He spread the attack out in several directions, attempting to take out everything at once. Hopefully, it wouldn't reach Anchorage, which was mere miles away._

_Danny then stopped. He dropped to the ground, trying desperately to maintain ghost form, and assessed the devastation: not one skeleton was left standing._

_Technus, however, was not among the casualties. He stood in the middle of the carnage, looking pleasantly surprised._

"_Wow!" he said loudly. "Very nice, I must say. But not enough to destroy me; Technus!" _

_He flew over towards the ghost boy, who was propping himself up on his knees. "You're tired, aren't you? The wail attack drains your powers, and makes you weak. It might have done more to me, had I not prepared for this. My nanotech structure can emit a series of sub-harmonic waves that effectively shield me from your attack. You're powerless against me."_

_Technus conjured his staff again._

"_And in a few seconds, you'll be nothing at all."_

_Then, Danny heard something: the steady hum of a repulsorlift engine._

_Out in the distance, a Specter Gunship was speeding towards the battle scene, arming its weaponry against the ghost it saw before it._

_Technus looked at the gunship, then at Danny. "Another time, child!" he said, flying away._

_Danny then collapsed in the tundra, feeling unconsciousness take him away...

* * *

_

_Danny Fenton sat in his new hoverchair, just outside of the moderate ward of Jung Home for the Emotionally Troubled. He'd just come out of an extensive operation to save what was left of his shattered spine, with paraplegia as a result. Dr. Kwan, from his childhood, had performed the surgery, and Danny hadn't thanked him enough for it._

_Even more affected by this recent turn of events was Sam, his wife for three months. Funny; everyone said they'd be together eventually, and now they were married. One thing was for sure: a lot of people owed Tucker Foley money for that bet. Another important fact was that Sam had recently said that she was pregnant. She hoped it would be a girl._

_Now, however was the task at hand._

_A nurse with sandy brown hair came through the doorway. She reminded Danny of his mother._

"_Mr. Fenton? You may come in," she said._

_The nurse escorted Danny into a stark white, sterile room that housed a giant glass cell. Inside that cell, attired in a white patient's uniform, was Vlad Masters. He looked very much the way he had earlier in the month, but there was a benevolence about him that seemed...uncharacteristic._

"_Could I talk to him in private, please?" Danny asked the nurse._

"_Of course," she replied. "Just make it quick." She walked out of the room, leaving the two alone._

"_Hello, Vlad," Danny said._

_Vlad looked up. "Hello, Daniel."_

"_So...How are you doing?" Danny asked._

"_Fine. Just fine. There's not much to do here, but I think it's for the best."_

"_So do I." _

"_That's why you sponsored the treatment, isn't it?"_

"_In a way."_

"_I heard that Jack and Maddie gave the family business to you."_

"_Yeah, but I don't know what I'll do with it."_

"_I'm sure you'll find something, Daniel."_

_A beat._

"_Do you dream much, son?"_

"_No. Why?"_

"_Nevermind. I also hear that your lovely wife is pregnant."_

"_That's true. We're expecting a girl."_

_Another pause._

"_Daniel," Vlad said, "I've spent most of my life with ghost powers. I've come to rely on them for many things. I even thought that I could use them to win your allegiance, along with the love of your mother. But I've lost them now. Now, I'm truly alone. It must feel strange, does it not? Stripped of our titles, inventions, and powers, naked in our absolute humanity._

"_We are hideous, are we not?"_

_Danny looked at Vlad with pity._

"_No," he said. "No we're not."_

_He floated out the door, leaving his history with that man behind...

* * *

_

"Danny!"

The man of thirty-nine was jerked from his memories from his wife's voice.

"Danny! It's time to leave!"

He got back into his hoverchair and made for the doorway, where Sam stood to accept his hug.


	21. Chapter Twenty: Problems of Truth

_**Chapter Twenty: Problems of Truth

* * *

**_

Ellie Fenton sat idly in the large waiting room of Dalv Corp's Amity Park branch. She'd been wanting to talk to Vlad ever since last night, ans since Jake and Aunt Jazz were out on a pleasure cruise for the very early spring of this year, now seemed like the opportune time.

But this opportune time was growing long.

Getting up out of her chair, she went over to a door marked 'Vlad Masters, Pres.' and started to knock. A short while later, two tall men in suits appeared in the doorway, seeming to try their best to look menacing.

"What's your business with Mr. Masters, little girl?" one asked.

"It's alright, Tony," came Vlad's voice from behind them. The man in question stepped between the two guards to look down at the girl, kindness in his demeanor.

"Hello, Ellen," he said silkily. "Would you like to come in?"

"Sure, Uncle Vlad," she replied.

As they stepped into Vlad's private office, Ellie felt a bit of a chill. The entire place looked dark, with very few lighting fixtures and only one window. It also had an eerie, reddish miasma about it that drew light from surrounding objects. Vlad himself was cast in a red-lined light that made him seem almost inhuman.

"Now then," he said as the two sat down, "would you like a glass of water?"

"No thanks, I'm fine." she replied. "Just a little tired, is all."

"From your dreams?"

Ellie paused for a moment. "Yes," she admitted.

"Ellen, when are you going to learn to trust me?" Vlad asked. "I have never kept any secrets from you. I have no reason to keep secrets from you. I have nothing I wish to hide. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do," Ellie said. "It's just that–"

"If you trust me, why do you keep secrets from me?"

Ellie gulped. "Because."

"Because why?"

No answer.

Vlad sighed irritably, as though he were trying to convince a stubborn drowning person to take the darn life preserver already. "Ellie, I think I know what the problem is. You're keeping things from people, and it's making you sick. You can't sleep, for you fear what might happen if someone found out. The only way to get over it is if you are completely and ruthlessly honest with me. And with yourself."

Ellie blinked. "I don't understand," she said.

"What is your secret? What should I give you in return?"

"What?"

"I'm offering you something of my own for something of yours. Simple bartering. A glass of water? A bag of jewels? A secret of my own? What is it you want from me?"

Ellie squinted at Vlad. "I still don't understand."

Vlad said slowly, as though he were explaining to a child, "I am offering you..._anything you want._"

"Anything?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course. Pick something. Anything. It will be yours."

"Okay..." Ellie searched around the room, trying to find the most foolishly expensive thing she could see. "...how about your autographed football from Ray Nitchki?"

Vlad did not even blink. "Done," he said simply.

"But you told me it's your most prized possession!"

"It is. I don't really need it. Anything else?"

Ellie looked out the window at a nearby skyscraper she recognized.

"How about an apartment at that building?"

"Done."

"It's pretty expensive..."

"I don't care. I have enough money."

Ellie went still. Something wasn't right here.

"Is something wrong?" Vlad asked.

"I...I just don't know whether you're kidding or crazy."

"I am neither. Do you see now, Ellie? I can give you anything you want. iAnything/i"

Ellie looked at the man with suspicion. "What's the catch?" she asked.

Vlad smiled. "You have to be honest with me."

"But..." Ellie began.

"Ellie, I don't think you understand. You have never needed to keep any secrets from me, because I won't judge you. I will accept you no matter who you are or what you've done. I would never betray a friend. I _care_ about you."

A beacon of light illuminated in Ellie's mind. This man would accept her for whatever she was. It was possible after all.

"You promise not to tell anybody?" she asked.

"Of course, my dear."

Ellie got up out of her chair, concentrating on the thought that would trigger her transformation. In a split second, Ellie Fenton was gone, and her ghost form stood in her place.

But something was wrong.

Through it all, Vlad didn't so much as blink.

"Vlad?" she asked shyly. "Are you alright?"

Vlad smiled. That charming, charismatic smile.

"Of course, my dear," he said simply. "I can do the same thing."

Calmly as ever, Vlad stood from his fancy chair, folding his hands behind his back. From his midsection emanated a pulsar of shadow, creeping along his body in both directions until his Armani suit had become a white tunic and red-lined cape. His fancy shoes became black boots. His wrinkled hands became encased in black gloves. His hair went from ice white to midnight black, and from a ponytail to devilhorns. His skin became deathly blue, and his eyes solid blood red.

In short, he looked like a monster.

Ellie stepped backwards. Could this..._thing_ really be her most trustworthy confidante? No. It must have been a mask. Vlad wouldn't look like this. Not on the inside.

"Ellie?" he asked, with a ghostly resonance in his voice. "Are you alright?"

Ellie calmed down a bit, nodding in response.

"You're...you're a halfa..." she managed to say.

"Yes, I am," Vlad replied.

"But...how?"

"Do you remember my little story about how your grandfather hospitalized me?"

Ellie nodded.

"Ellie, I have the same condition as you do. I can alter my form from human to ghost at will. I have powers beyond that of mere mortal men. Your father's machine infused me with ectoplasm, making me what I am today. Just like you."

Ellie collapsed in her chair, changing out of ghost mode. She suddenly felt very tired.

"Ellie," Vlad said, "let's talk."

* * *

Jake was toweling off in a changing room, down in the lower cabin of his family's private yacht. He'd just gotten out of the waters of the lake that bestrode Amity Park, where he'd been water-skiing with Dave and Gina. A fairly competent skier on both land and water, this was the main form of how Jake got his exercise, as well as the only sport he was good at.

Gina, who had been in another changing room to Jake's left, spoke up: "Jake?"

"Yes?" he replied.

"Can I talk to you in a second?"

"Sure. Just gimme a minute."

The older Fenton twin finished drying his hair, replacing his swimsuit with normal clothes, and went out into the spacious main cabin, sitting down in a chair and waiting for Gina to show up. When she did, she too was in her regular clothes, taking a seat adjacent Jake.

"Now," Jake said, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Well, frankly..." Gina said, "...about us."

"Us?"

"Yes. Lately, with your sister not speaking to you and these fun moments with your aunt, I've noticed that you've been kind of avoiding something."

"What?" Jake asked, with the growing feeling of where this was going.

"You remember when I went to you near Christmas? About how you lied about going up to your rooms?"

Jake stammered, "Y–yes."

"And remember how those ghosts showed up, and we couldn't find you anywhere?"

"Well, to be fair, you weren't looking for us."

"_I_ was."

"You were?"

"And you weren't anywhere to be found. In fact, I can never find you when these ghost-kids show up. You know what I think?"

Jake gulped, waiting for the inevitable answer–

"I think you like me."

"IT'S A LIE! I'M NOT A GHOST!" Jake yelled before realizing what Gina had said. When he had, he said, "Wait–what?"

"I think you like me," Gina repeated. "Why else would you do that? You're afraid that since I thought the ghost-boy was cute, that I would like him over you."

"Wha–no I don't!" he said defensively.

"Then why did you hold my hand?"

"That was an accident!"

"Uh-huh. And I'm the Princess of Morocco."

"I'm serious!"

Gina looked skeptical for a moment, but then said, "Alright. I'll believe you. But if you act otherwise, I'll know. Okay?"

"Got it."

A tremor throughout the boat was the signal that it had docked. Jake started up the stairs to the upper deck when he turned back to Gina.

"Gina, out of curiosity, why did you ask that?"

She looked panicky for a second. "Um...no reason!"

* * *

"You see, Ellen," Vlad said, "when I looked into your grandfather's machine, it activated, infusing my genetic code with ambient interdimensional energy. This effect bleached my hair white, made my skin break out, and gave me the powers of a full-fledged ghost. I spent several years in a hospital after that, as my doctors couldn't pinpoint the problem. How could they? Nobody at that time knew anything about spectral physics or chemistry."

Ellie merely sat in the chair, trying to digest what had happened earlier. And she still couldn't believe it. She heard Vlad's voice coming from this vampiric monster, but she didn't think that they were the same thing. Nothing made sense, and the world was going to the pits.

"I practiced with my powers in private for a few years," Vlad continued, "all the while gathering as much knowledge as I could about what I'd become. Eventually, I found an old set of blueprints for Jack's Ghost Portal, and built one as soon as I got out of the hospital. In the Ghost Zone, I made a name for myself, participating in various endeavors that helped to make me very wealthy in a short amount of time. And it would have never happened without your grandfather."

Finally, Ellie managed to speak. "So...all this...is from your powers?"

"Yes. Most of our technologies are powered by different sorts of ectoplasm, which I can harvest through my private ghost portal. The company has public ones, of course, but those are by supervised human teams. In order to gain energy for...iprivate/i projects, I use my private portal to harvest the substances necessary. It also helps when negotiating with my ghost clientele as well."

"You...do business...with ghosts?"

"Of course I do. It's quite the profitable trade."

"But...it's _illegal!_"

"Oh Ellie, we mustn't concern ourselves with _mortal laws. _We're half-ghosts; we're above all those other plebeians."

Ellie sighed. "I don't think we are."

"Of course you don't. You don't see yourself as anything more than human. But you're special, Ellie. We both are. And I could help you with your..._dreams._"

Ellie's blue eyes went wide.

"What did you say?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I have _experience_, my child. I have money, power, and prestige, all gained from using my powers. I could help you, Ellie. I could teach you about yourself; train you in everything you're capable of! And all you would have to do is be honest with me. I want nothing more."

Ellie stood up from her chair, shuffling towards the door.

"But..." she said. "But...you_ lied_ to me!"

"About what?" Vlad asked.

"About being half-ghost!"

"No, I didn't. You never asked me about being half-ghost, so I never told you about it. That's not lying. It was merely a secret I kept to save you discomfort."

"But you said that we didn't_ have_ secrets!" Her voice was louder now.

"_You_ had a secret, didn't you? I revealed a secret in exchange for yours. It was only fair."

Ellie banged her head against the wall. How could she believe what Vlad said anymore? He could have other secrets. He could have even _lied_ to her.

"I...I need to leave."

"Of course you do," Vlad said, transforming out of ghost form. The reddish miasma disappeared. "I would need time to think about this offer too. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here when you make your decision."

Ellie didn't answer, merely leaving the office, thinking about it all.

_Can I trust anyone? There's nobody I can share my secret with. The people that know about it can't help me. I need some time away from it all._

She transformed again, flying for a hilltop outside of town where she did all her thinking, ever since she was a little girl.

* * *

Vlad Masters and Vlad Plasmius sat in the office chair, strumming their fingers together with the casual air of a sociopath. After the girl had gone, they waited a few minutes, until it was obvious that she wasn't coming back for now.

_Well then, shall we?_ Masters asked.

**_Of course, _**Plasmius replied.

He brought his comlink watch up to mouth level, pressing the button that activated the voice control.

"Skulker?" the two men asked.

"Yes, sir?" replied the familiar deep rasp.

"Bring Technus and HEXAPOD to the Fenton Manor. Wait for Jack and Maddie to arrive to greet their son. When everyone is there, kill Jack and Jacob. They'll think it's a reprisal strike from the Ghost Wars. With luck, it will be what pushes Ellen right into our hands."

"Understood, sir. Shall I dispose of Jasmine Fenton, as well? HEXAPOD says that she knows about the secret."

"Very well. You may destroy her, as well. Just don't mess up."

"Understood. Skulker out." And the comlink went dead.

In the meantime, the two could wait. After all, they'd promised Ellie they would. And they were looking forward to keeping their word.

For a change.


	22. Chapter Twenty One: Pay the Piper

_**Chapter Twenty-One: Pay the Piper

* * *

**_

That evening, Fenton Manor was quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were the settling of the foundation, the wind rustling the trees, and the occasional servant going to another room. Outside, the day was unnaturally clear: fifty-five degrees in winter season was not normal.

Ellie Fenton descended through the roof of the manor, reappearing in the kitchen. A reddish mark was on her forehead from where she'd banged it into Vlad's wall. But the pain was nothing compared to the shock of the discovery she'd found. The discovery that her best adult friend had been a half-ghost.

Without a word, Ellie opened the refrigerator door, pouring herself a small glass of orange juice. While she drank that, she got out a small piece of paper and began to write a short message:

_Dear Aunt Jazz,_

_Went to hillside. Be back around sixish._

_Ellie._

After she'd finished the glass, she heard voices coming up the hall.

"So you learned to water-ski when you were seven?" It was Gina's voice.

"Yep. And I learned to snow-ski at six." This one was her brother's.

_I'd better get outta here_, she thought. Quickly putting the note in plain sight, she went intangible once again, flying through the roof, towards the southern end of Fenton Manor. Here, a spot of grass that surrounded a solitary oak tree stood out in the rest of the thick, forested area.

Ever since she was little, Ellie's mother used to take her to this place. They'd found it shortly after they'd moved in, back when she and Jake were infants. It was calming. Soothing. Like a spot in an enchanted forest from a storybook tale.

Now, in the midst of January, the oak tree was just starting to sprout leaves again. It was truly a work of natural art: a moment of spring emerging from the chill of winter.

Ellie leaned her head back against the oak, slumping to the ground. "What am I going to do?" she asked nobody in particular. "Vlad's a half-ghost, my brother is friends with my worst enemy, and there's nobody else I can talk to about these dreams!"

She began to cry, the only sound in the glade where she sat.

But then there was another sound. An even stranger sound.

Ellie felt the all-too-familiar rush of blue mist up her throat and out from her lips. She began to look around for the source of the noise, but turned up nothing. Taking no chances, the girl transformed in a burst of light, just as a greenish miasma was cast on the open glade. Then, she saw who triggered her ghost-sense.

"Piper!" she exclaimed as the green-clad ghost stepped lightly out from the trees.

"That's right, ghost-munchkin!" he replied in his accent. "Where's your brother?"

"Why do you care!" Ellie said a bit too harshly.

"I don't. I just wanted to get you two once and for all this time, but you'll do, my pretty!"

Bringing his flute to his lips, Piper shot off a blast of sound right at Ellie. It hit the ghost-girl head on, throwing her back through the budding oak tree. The tree itself was blasted into splinters by the sheer force of the sound.

Ellie looked at the shattered remains of the oak where she used to sit under as a child. Then, she looked at Piper. Her ghost half basked in this anger, eyes glowing with intensity.

"_That,_" she said evenly, "_was a bad mistake._"

In a charge that could break through a battleship, Ellie flew at Piper, knocking the ghost into the ground.

Ellie looked at Piper.

Piper looked at Ellie.

There was nothing anymore. Just them and the damage they'd caused each other.

* * *

"You're saying that Tyler's mom is a news reporter?" Dave asked.

"Yes," Gina replied. "Why do you guys think he's such a news buff?"

Jake, Dave, and Gina were up in Jake's room, all sitting on the blue sheets of his twin sized bed. For the last half hour, they'd been talking, jumping from topic to topic. This minute's subject was Ty.

"It's not that," Jake said. "It's just that he's so...annoying. How do you put up with him?"

"You get used to him," Gina said. "Just filter out the pointless babble, and he's actually pretty nice."

"Hey, just as long as he doesn't try to interview me again, I'm fine," Jake said.

"Fat chance," Dave said.

"Hey! I don't make fun of you guys!" Gina said harshly.

Neither boy had anything to say.

"So, um...Jake?" Gina asked. "Could I talk to you outside for a minute?"

"Sure," Jake replied. They walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them, leaving David to his own machinations.

"Okay, what is it you wanted to talk about?" Jake asked, once they were out of earshot.

"Um..." Gina started. "Listen, about what happened on the boat... That was insanely forward of me, and I should never have asked you that. Gosh, I must've sounded shallow..."

"Oh, it's no big deal," Jake said. "We're just friends."

"Right. Glad you understand." Gina enveloped Jake in a friendly hug that lasted for five seconds. Then, for some reason, Dave came outside.

"Guys?" he asked the embracing teens. "What's going on here?"

"Oh! Nothing!" both said in unison, blushing.

"Riiight..." Dave said incredulously. "Well, if you're done–"

"_Jake!_" Jazz called from downstairs.

Jake looked at his friends. "I'd better go listen to her."

"Good idea," Dave said.

Jake started down the spiraling staircase, seeing his aunt at the bottom, a worried look on her face. Whe he reached the bottom, he said, "What's wrong?"

"It's your sister, Jake," Jazz said. "She's never out at this time of year. It's too gloomy."

"Yeah, she's been acting weird ever since she got her ghost powers..."

Jazz's eyes went wide. "What?"

"She's been acting weird. What?"

"Jake, where is she?"

"Out on the hilltop where she thinks."

Jazz stared into space, looking to Jake as though in deep, terrible realization.

"Why?" Jake asked. "What's wrong?"

"I think something may be wrong..." Jazz said simply.

* * *

Piper reeled back as Ellie struck another blow. This same cycle of fighting had been what he and the ghost-freak had been doing for the last fifteen minutes: one knocked the other down, the other retaliates by doing the same, and so on. But this was getting tiresome. Piper's ego wouldn't allow a loss.

"Getting tired, munchkin?" he asked as he recovered. "Your powers have a–"

That was as far as he got, for the next thing that he saw was the underside of Ellie's boot approaching his face at what looked like terminal velocity.

The impact was devastating. If Piper hadn't already been dead, the kick would have probably broken his neck. Instead, however, it sent the green-clad ghost flying into a large fir tree, which buckled and yawed under the force of the impact.

"Now go away," Ellie shouted, "or I'll smack the green right off you!"

Clutching his hooded head in pain, Piper looked at Ellie. He pushed her comment aside, drawing upon the knowledge of his own personal invincibility to open a channel to his musical powers.

He lifted the flute to his lips, playing out another high note. A beam of green light shot towards the half-ghost, tearing apart the ground upon which she stood. Yet even as she took off to avoid the chasm, even as she charged once again at the ghost in green, Piper understood.

Ellie here was a natural fighter.

This girl had a nuclear furnace where her heart should have been, and it was burning through the walls of her human repression. Repression that she was using to conceal some inward fear.

Fear, Piper speculated, of what might happen if that furnace went critical.

Piper slipped aside from Ellie's charge, saying, "Scared, ghost-child?"

"What? No!" Ellie shot back. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"Right," Piper said cooly. "Afraid of _yourself._ You are consumed by it. I can see it in the way you fight: spastic, erratic, and desperate. HA! You're no hero! You're a posturing fraud!"

Piper said, with utter satisfaction, "Aren't you a little old to be afraid of the dark?"

Ellie wavered for a second or two. This was all he needed. He sent off another blast at Ellie, knocking her back into the splintered remains of the tree. He looked down upon her with the knowledge of his performance and what it would do. He saw her swimming into unconsciousness.

But then, something happened.

As Ellie lay crumpled across the oak splinters, Piper heard a voice. It was weary, wise, and ancient, like a man who had seen the entire history of the world.

"TIME OUT!"

And then–just like that–

The ghost-girl was gone.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two: Memories

_**Chapter Twenty-Two: Memories

* * *

**_

"My leg is falling asleep," Technus whined.

"Quiet!" Skulker growled. "They'll hear us."

Perched in a tree, the two former ghost-generals, each responsible for thousands of human deaths, where looking inside a window of Fenton Manor, concealed both by invisibility and by Skulker's masking gas.

"Why do we not strike now?" Skulker asked the empty air.

"Because," came a mechanical voice, "Master Vladimir says to wait until every member of the family arrives." From out of the shadows, the insect-like HEXAPOD clambered out, its pincers gripping into the trees.

"Well, that doesn't seem feasible," Skulker said.

"It doesn't matter," Technus said. "As long as I get my paycheck, I'm fine."

Skulker sighed irritably. Technus never understood the subtleties of the hunt. The immense waiting time, the patient watching, the rush of the chase, and the thrill of success. Instead, he sat up in that tree and complained about every stupid thing. If not for Vlad's specific orders, Skulker might have been inclined to boot Technus so hard that his ghostly butt would go up between his shoulder blades.

"Oh, that's it!" the hunter snarled quietly. "If I don't see some carnage within the next five minutes, I'll blast the first thing I see!"

As Technus and HEXAPOD gave ground to the enraged ghost, the William Tell Overture sounded out from his forearm. "What is it?" Skulker asked, irritated.

"_This is the Piper, sir,_" came a voice from the comlink. "_I encountered the ghost-girl out in the forest, and she...well, she..._"

"She what?"

"_She...kinda...vanished._"

Skulker gave no immediate reply. Instead, he gave an unreadable expression, then said, "Converge on our location, and keep quiet."

"_Understood. Piper out._"

After a few more minutes of patient waiting, spying, and listening to Technus's complaints, Skulker saw that Piper had arrived, his green cloak tattered by a recent battle, flute in gloved hand. "Now then," Skulker growled, "What happened? Where is the ghost-girl?"

"I told you...she vanished." Piper replied, scared of the ghost hunter.

"And do you know _why?_"

"Uh...n–n–no..."

Skulker sneered, his mechanical scent receptors producing a very credible imitation of a snort. Raising his right arm to level with the green-clad ghost's head, a small cannon emerged from his wrist. In a blast of ectoplasmic power, a glowing blue net shot out from the cannon, encasing Piper in its grip.

The green ghost let out a yell of surprise and pain. "What are you doing?"

"Dealing with you the way my employer would," Skulker answered as he pressed the button to electrocute the net.

* * *

The first thing she realized was that it was cold.

Very cold.

As Ellie opened her eyes, she came to realize that she was lying in the middle of a strange room. Through her bleary eyes, she could make out a series of giant cogs and sprockets, each intertwined in an endless Babbage-like mechanism. Beyond that were Romanesque pillars spread out in quadrilateral form, supporting a ceiling that looked miles high. The entire mechanism ticked with a deafening resonance, and Ellie felt like she was being assaulted by the sights and sounds of the room.

Getting up with such effort that her head spun, she saw a great staircase leading up the impossibly high room. Deciding to explore–partly out of curiosity–she went ghost, flying upwards through the clockworks. Eventually, she emerged at the top of the room, gaping at the sight.

There was another room astride a balcony near the ceiling, completely devoid of the mechanisms of the former. Instead, it was furnished with wooden beams and floorboards, like that of a clock tower. Also–like a clock tower–there was a giant clock face of stained glass fixed into one of the walls.

Suddenly a voice came from behind Ellie: "Oh good. You're up."

Ellie wheeled around to face who had spoken to her, and came face-to-face with the strangest ghost she'd ever seen.

He seemed to be a twenty-year old man, clad completely in shades of purple: lavender tunic, violet cloak, and plum gloves with numerous wristwatches upon them. His face was blue, containing solid, laser-red eyes, the right one being mutilated by a scar. In his hands was a blue staff with a stopwatch perched on top. On his chest was a clock pendulum encased underneath a glass cover.

"After all this time–or should I say _lack _of time–I was beginning to think you wouldn't visit me." he said with a frosty, wizened voice.

Ellie found this ghost incredibly strange. "Who...are you?" she asked.

"Introductions?" the ghost asked. "Very well then. I am Clockwork, Master of Time."

"And...why am I here?"

"Because we have your future to discuss."

Clockwork floated to the clock face in the wall, motioning with his gloved hand for Ellie to come near. Ellie walked over, looking intently at the clock: it didn't seem special in any way. Then, she saw a series of keyholes below the clock face, oddly placed in some sort of sequence.

"Um...sir?" Ellie asked. "What did you mean by my future?"

"Exactly that," Clockwork answered. "The series of events that will happen depending upon which path you choose. But first, you must know something."

"What?"

"About your ghost powers."

Clockwork pressed the timer on the stopwatch, and the clock face began to swirl in a rainbow of ornate color. Within moments, it dissolved into an image:

_The clock face showed what looked like a fourteen-year old boy with white hair, green eyes, and a black and white hazmat suit. But this boy wasn't human: he was flying through the air by a spectral tail, towards a building burning with blue flame._

"Who's that?" Ellie asked.

"That," Clockwork said, "is the teenage Danny Phantom. Your father."

Ellie's mind went numb. It was a strange feeling: everything made sense, and everything was confusing as well.

"My father?"

"Yes," Clockwork said. "If you wish to know more, I suggest you keep watching."

Ellie focused back on the clock face:

_Going intangible, Danny Phantom phased harmlessly through the azure flames engulfing the building. Inside, the fire was eating away at the supports of an apartment, which Phantom had the lack of luck to arrive in. Somewhere in the inferno, he heard a woman scream._

"_It's alright!" he called to the screamer. "I'm here to help you!" After a few seconds of searching, he came across a cringing form wrapped in a purple shawl._

"_Oh, Mr. Phantom!" the woman called. "Thank you! You're my hero!" _

_A jet of blue flame shot out from where the shawl covered the woman's head, nearly incinerating the ghost-boy, had he not altered the shape of his midsection to weave around the azure backdraft. The shawl burned away, revealing a young ghost woman clad in black leather. Her skin was pure alabaster, with extensive makeup painted on her face. Across her back was a flame-painted Les Paul guitar, and her hair was a blue ponytail that burned like flame._

"_Ember!" Phantom exclaimed. "_You_ started this fire?"_

"_You got that right, dipstick," the ghost replied. Taking the guitar from her back sling, Ember strummed a low chord, sending a sound wave screaming towards Phantom. The sheer concussion was enough to knock down a few beams of burning wood, along with sending Phantom flying back through two walls._

_The ghost-boy got up, brushing off some errant flames from his hazmat suit. "Could we get this over with? Lancer's giving me a test in a few minutes, and I don't want to be late." He charged Ember, starting a grapple and forcing the ghost to drop her guitar._

"_Being late's the least of your worries," Ember said. "Because once I burn your heinie alive, I'll find those two stupid friends of yours and fry them both!"_

"_Are you serious?"_

"_I'm _so _serious!"_

_Throwing him over her head, Ember laughed as she saw the ghost-boy buried under a pile of burning plaster and cinders._

"_I did it!" she said in triumph. "I finally beat that little yutz!"_

_However, her triumph was interrupted by that same boy emerging from the flames unscathed._

"_Uh-huh," he said sardonically. "Come back to me on that when you get some new one-liners. You know, ones that apply to this decade."_

_Pulling the cap off a thermos-like device on his belt, Phantom shot a blue-white vortex towards Ember. The ghost was encased in the glowing maelstrom, sent spiraling into the thermos before the ghost-boy clamped it down again._

"_Well, that's that," he said, rising out of the building. The fire department was now controlling the fire, which had turned orange due to Ember's absence. "I'd better get outta here before anyone sees me."_

_Danny Phantom proceeded to land in a nearby alleyway, white rings forming around his midsection and spreading along his body, transforming him into someone Ellie knew from old photographs..._

"Dad?" Ellie asked. "But...how did he..."

"Become half-ghost?" Clockwork asked. "Many years ago, your father was infused with ectoplasm by his parents' artificial ghost portal. Since this portal also released malevolent ghosts into his dimension, he decided to become Danny Phantom to face them."

This was all coming at once. It was more than Ellie could comprehend.

"Why didn't he tell us?" she asked.

"He didn't want to put his family in worry for him," Clockwork said. "Besides, his parents were ghost-hunters; what would you do if you were in his situation?"

Ellie was left speechless. Inside, she knew this ghost was right; she'd probably be even more reluctant to tell a pair of ighost-hunting/i parents.

"Indeed," Clockwork continued. "Now then, any more questions?"

Ellie thought of one. "How'd I get my ghost powers?"

"How do you think you got them?"

Ellie told Clockwork the theory she'd pondered on for months: "Through my parents?"

The Master of Time nodded.

She sighed. Considering what could have been, it wasn't that bad an origin. But the fact that her father was the most famous ghost on the planet still nagged at her.

"This is all too surreal," she said. "Why am I here?"

"Because," Clockwork said, "nobody else will deliver this news to you before you make the wrong decision."

"What wrong decision? What will I do? How do you know all this?"

"Well, you see," Clockwork said, "for me, time moves backwards, and forwards, and–oh, why am I bothering? You're fourteen." Throughout this little speech, Ellie watched in wonder as the ghost's age changed spontaneously from child, to man, to venerable ancient, back to man again.

"Wow..." she said in awe. "You can manipulate time?"

"Of course."

"Then...I have one more question," Ellie said shyly. "What did you mean by 'the wrong path?'"

"Oh, that," Clockwork said. "You are about to be faced with a decision that will change your life forever. One path leads to sorrow and misery, the other to a life of happiness. I have brought you to my realm to help you choose correctly."

"Choose what correctly?" Ellie was getting impatient. "What is it you're talking about?"

"In order to know that," Clockwork said, changing into an elderly man, "you must see a section of your father's past fifteen years ago." He pressed the button on his stopwatch, bringing another image from the clock face:

_It was a scene of tranquility. A grand waterfall cascaded down a magnificent mountain, filling the depths of a vast lake below. On the top of the mountain, there was a stately cabin, larger than most and far more decadent. As the image closed in, it revealed a man standing out on the balcony overlooking the falls. That man was Vlad Masters. He looked younger somehow, as he stood upright without a cane. The lines of age were still in his face, though, and his eyes were fixed on a distant object closing in._

_As the object on the horizon became clearer, Ellie saw what it was: a twenty-four year old version of her father in ghost mode. As he closed completely on the balcony, he landed right in front of Vlad, a scowl on his face. He looked very much like his high school self, save for the fact that his muscular structure was far more developed, and his bangs were a bit shorter than those of his teenage hairstyle._

"_Why hello, Daniel," Vlad said silkily. "What brings you here today?"_

"_Don't start with your sleazy businessman talk," Danny said coldly. "I just figured it out. It was you. It's been you all along."_

"What are they talking about?" Ellie asked.

"They speak of the Ghost Wars," Clockwork explained, "which Vlad Plasmius started."

"But Vlad Masters couldn't have..." She trailed off, thinking about what she was seeing in the mirror.

_Vlad Masters._

_Vlad Plasmius._

Ellie refocused her eyes on the image, still in deep thought.

"_Why Daniel, whatever do you mean?" Vlad asked._

"_You were the one who started this whole war! You were the one who funded both sides, trying to destroy those I care about!"_

_Vlad smiled snidely. "Oh dear, you've found me out!" he said mockingly. "And just what exactly are you going to do about it?"_

"_What I should have done a long time ago," Danny replied in a voice of blood. He charged at Vlad, who promptly disappeared, reappearing in a nearby armchair._

"_Oh, stop it, Daniel," he said. "You and I both know that you don't stand a chance against me!"_

"_I've beaten you before," Danny said hotly._

"_Then why am I still around?"_

_An explosion of shadow later, Vlad transformed into his ghost half, casting an eerie rose-colored light on the balcony. He brought his hands to a perpendicular angle with his body, and they spat amethyst light right at Danny, who was knocked back by the force. The ghost-man growled, his eyes glowing green, and lunged at Vlad once more, this time connecting with the older man._

_The battle was fierce. Each opponent seemed to know the other better than a sibling, more intimately than a lover. It didn't matter what move either used: punch, kick, ghost ray, ecto-shaping, and duplication were all in vain, as each could counter the other's techniques with utter ease. Eventually, they came to a standstill outside the balcony, Danny on the edge of Reichenbach Falls–incidentally, the spot where Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty fought to the death._

"_You've improved posthumously," Vlad said with his casual air. "Why don't you join me, Daniel? You could have anything!"_

"_Forget it, Vlad." Danny spat the name out as though it were something foul. "You can never buy me."_

"_I don't have to," Vlad said. "Not when this war has molded you into a machine of war and driven you away from your friends and family. You haven't seen any of them in weeks, have you? Not even your new wife?"_

_Danny gritted his teeth in anger._

"_Face it, Danny. We're exactly alike. Cop and killer. Each the same person, one step removed from being the one we hate most. I once said you'd join me by choice. Now, you have no choice left."_

_Danny grinned wryly. "Yes, I do."_

_Drawing in breath, Danny let out a truly ghastly sound from the depths of himself. The Ghostly Wail shook the house from its foundations, shattered rocks on the mountaintop, and even caused the falls to stop flowing. Even Vlad Plasmius seemed to be tearing asunder, collapsing on the falling balcony in a fizzle of darkness as he transformed back into a human._

_As the Wail was finished, Danny sunk to his knees, transforming himself. In his exhaustion, he didn't seem to notice that the rocks he was standing on were collapsing out from under his feet. _

_The mountain imploded like a poorly made toothpick model._

_Danny and Vlad fell into the mist of the waterfall..._

Ellie couldn't speak. This was proving to be more than she could take in one sitting.

"What...happened?" she stammered.

"Both men were found by Valerie Gray, your father's friend," Clockwork said, "who happened to be in the area. Both survived, though Danny suffered a spinal cord injury. If not for his half-ghost attributes, he could very well have been killed."

"And Vlad?"

"Valerie used a pair of Ghost Gauntlets to separate his ghost and human halves. Until recently, the Plasmius part of Vlad was stored in high security at your house."

Ellie stared into space.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

Too much sense for comfort.

Sitting on the ground, she went over what she'd found: her powers came from her father, who was crippled by Vlad, who was Plasmius, who had lied to her and tried to make her his new protegee...

A tear crept from Ellie's eye down her cheek.

"Take. It. Back," she said bluntly.

Clockwork said, "What do you mean?" It seemed as though he knew the answer already.

"I said take it back!" Ellie screamed. "You have time-control powers! You're practically a god! You can save my daddy!"

"No, I can't," Clockwork replied. He didn't seem so much sad as tired.

"WHY THE HECK NOT?" Ellie's voice shook through the tower.

"Because it is necessary that these events occur."

"Then take it away! I don't want my powers anymore! Take them away!"

"How could I possibly do that?"

"I don't know! Just do it!"

"No," Clockwork said firmly.

"Why?" Ellie cried. "I don't want my bad dreams! I want my life back..." She collapsed on the floor, sobbing profusely.

She felt a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Ellie," came the soft voice of the Master of Time as he transformed into a child. "You must understand that everything happens for a reason. Your father was meant to become paralyzed, just as you and your brother were meant to gain his incredible powers."

Ellie looked up at the ghost. He looked kind as a child.

"I...just wish...it could go away..." she sobbed.

"It's alright. So do many others, but they cannot decide that. A wise man once said that all we can do with a bad situation is do what we can with the time that is given to us. You have to make a decision soon. One that will affect your life forever."

Clockwork pressed a button on the stopwatch of his staff. In a flash of light, Ellie found herself and the ghost back in the massacred field where she had fought Piper. The sight of it brought more tears.

"If it is any consolation," Clockwork said calmly, "I already know that you will make the right choice. Goodbye."

And in a flash of light, Clockwork vanished, leaving the ghost-girl crying in a ruined storybook glen.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three: Inward Fear

_**Chapter Twenty-Three: Inward Fear

* * *

**_

Jake Fenton flew across the forest that surrounded his home, looking intently for his runaway sister. His Aunt Jazz had already received a call from his mother and father, telling him that, after a short visit to his grandparent's, they would shortly be arriving home.

Not that Jake was thinking about this at the moment.

Right now, Jake was thinking about cartoons.

In cartoons, as the episodes went on, the protagonist always found his/herself facing greater and more terrible obstacles, leading up to a climax at the show's end, only to amount to another in the next installment. Not that Jake thought of his life as part of a cartoon; he wasn't _that_ crazy. No matter how over-the-top he and his sister's lives had gotten, this wasn't any work of fiction.

However, Jake sometimes believed that life imitated art, in addition to the other way around. Sometimes he thought as he sat on his computer, thinking about how the stakes could rise and fall and rise again like the tides. What terrible new enemies awaited them? What horrifying new enemy would the spectacular ghost-twins be needed to defeat next?

Lost in his thoughts, Jake–at first–ignored the clearing where his sister usually did her thinking. But after a second look, he saw it: the place had seen some heavy action. Blast craters lined the glade, and the oak tree in the center was splintered into innumerable pieces.

In the midst of it all was his sister, crouched on the ground in front of the remains of the tree.

Landing in the chaotic terrain, Jake walked through the splinters and holes, transforming out of ghost mode. The sunlight beaming into the entire place was paradoxical with its condition. When he reached Ellie, he heard her breath: it was uneven and shuddering, like been crying.

"Ellie?" he asked carefully.

The girl looked up at him; her eyes were raw, and her face looked swollen. She'd definitely been crying. "Oh gosh..." she said in a hoarse half-whisper, though it didn't seem as though she were talking to Jake. "It's my fault..."

Jake frowned in confusion. "What's your fault, sis?"

"I can hear her..." she continued hoarsely. "Whispering...laughing...telling me I'm nothing without her...that we're both...both the _same!_"

He crouched down to eye level with his sister. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you hurt? Did a ghost come here?"

Ellie nodded through her shuddering. "Piper..."

Jake looked around, picking up a splinter. It looked as though the tree had literally been shaken apart. Piper's handiwork, alright.

"All my fault..."

"Shh..." Jake went to embrace his sister, but she pushed him away roughly.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled. Her voice was harsh.

"Alright..." Jake said reproachfully. "But what's wrong? Are you going to tell me?"

"It doesn't matter," she half-whispered. "I...I...have to go."

As she got up off the ground, Ellie became a ghost in a burst of haloed light. She took off, no longer sobbing or tired. Jake watched it all with a mixture of sadness and disbelief. What did she mean about 'she'? Was it a nightmare? Was it another ghost that had accompanied Piper?

Jazz was right. Something was wrong here.

He took off back towards the house, where his aunt was waiting for him on the balcony to his room. Going out of ghost mode, he hugged his aunt, who embraced him back warmly.

"So," she said, "did you find Ellie?"

"Yeah," he answered. "She seemed upset about something. And the field was torn apart."

"What?"

"A ghost attacked her while she was alone. She didn't say anything else."

"Really..." Jazz said, and it wasn't a question. "I think she has a problem, Jake. Let's just hope she talks to someone soon."

* * *

In a heartbeat, Maddie Fenton can name the happiest moments in her life: the days her children were born, the day her grandchildren were born, and the day she and Jack won the Nobel Prize for discovering the Ghost Zone. However, the latter is no memory compared to the former, for she cares about her family more than any award she might receive.

This case applied to when she received a phone call from her son, Danny. He'd said that he was just coming back from a trip to Japan, and that they were going to bring them to their house for a family dinner. How kind a son she had, was what she thought.

Now, she was in Danny's car, pulling into the driveway that led to his famous mansion. The experience was always a treat for Maddie and Jack; they liked how the success of their company–no matter how far it had deviated from its original purpose–made their children happy.

As the limousine slowed to a stop, Maddie opened the passenger's door and lightly stepped out. She heard Jack's heavy footfall after hers as she opened the door, where Jake and Jazz were waiting.

"Hi, Jazzie!" Maddie said, hugging her oldest child.

"Hey, Mom," she said kindly in reply.

Maddie then leaned down to hug Jake. "And how's my little man?"

"Just fine, Grandma," he said.

"Come along, everyone," said a manservant who had walked into the atrium. "The dinner will start within thirty minutes."

Maddie sat down, waiting for the dinner to be done...

* * *

As Jake sat on his bed in his room, waiting for the little family reunion downstairs, he thought about what Ellie had said to him in the shattered peace of the storybook meadow. The entire notion of another ghost out to get them was very plausible with their history, but the way Ellie had said it sounded like only Piper had been there.

It sounded like something worse.

Jake had long known that Ellie's dreams took place inside a mind palace. Ever since she was diagnosed with clinical depression at a very young age, Jake speculated that this was to order out her mind into a less threatening form.

But Jake knew that mind palaces were not supposed to be friendly places. There were areas inside them where their masters could not venture, where Cicero's rules of spacing and light do not apply.

He thought about the look in Ellie's eyes. Beyond the tears, he had thought he had seen a look of sorrowful desperation. As though Ellie was being destroyed by some inward fear.

_Fear._

Ellie was afraid of something. No. Some_one_.

Herself. What she could become. Somehow, Jake knew it, but he couldn't explain how. It could have been back when the psychologists said that she was a very emotionally unstable girl; it could have been back when she actually used to talk to him about her problems. But it was there. That terrible realization that could send someone into fits of worry.

"Jake? You in here?"

Gina Gray's voice cut through his musings like a knife.

"Huh? O-Oh yeah," he said. "I'm just...resting."

"Oh. Okay." The girl sat down on the bed next to Jake. "Whatcha thinking about?"

Jake raised an eye as he looked at the ceiling. "What?"

"People don't look the way you do unless they're thinking about something. So...what is it?"

"Well..." Jake said, "...frankly, about Ellie."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah. She's been avoiding me lately, not speaking to me."

"Why's she not speaking to you?"

"Because you're my friend. She thinks I 'betrayed' her, or some other nonsense."

Gina rolled to look at Jake. "Aww...how sweet that you'd go against your sister to be friends with me." She gave him a peck on the cheek.

It was a moment frozen in time.

Jake's cheeks flushed with blood as he processed what had happened. Why did she do that? Was it something like a kiss you get from a relative? Was it something more?

"Jake?" Gina asked. "You okay?"

"What?" he asked, snapping out of his haze. "Oh. Yes, I'm fine."

A pause.

"Gina–" he started.

_CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!_

Jake's eyes darted back to the ceiling as he heard the sound of cracking wood and breaking drywall. For a second, Jake thought the house was going to implode in on itself. What actually transpired wasn't an improvement. Something had wedged itself into one of the light sockets and was now parting entirely to reveal a small, elliptical object with a glowing green eye, six metal cables wriggling around it like things alive.

Gina screamed, "Oh my gosh, what is that!"

"I am HEXAPOD, child," the ellipse said in a brisk, metallic voice. As it lowered itself into the room, Jake saw that this creature was actually some type of robot. "I have been charged with the task of your friend's annihilation." Its eye turned on its stalk to the open ceiling it had just created. "The area is secure, Father."

"Very good, Hexy," came a voice that sounded akin to grating metal. At the top of the hole, looking down like a malevolent god, was a man with green skin, cyberpunk clothes, a white undercut mullet, and dark-tinted sunglasses. A maniacal grin was plastered across his face, exposing small, sharp teeth.

On the other side of the gaping ceiling was a towering, bulky battlesuit that looked something like a gorilla. In the evening sun, its dark, metallic arms shone with a blood-red outline. Contrasting this hue was a wreath of glowing green flames that surrounded its entire head. Its talon-like feet gripped into the ruins of his ceiling, looking as dexterous as his fingers.

Both figures jumped down into the room, creating clouds of plaster dust that made their appearances all the more menacing.

"If it isn't Jacob Fenton, son and heir to our most hated foe," the suit said in a deep rasp.

"We shall take great pleasure in tearing you limb from limb," the man added.

Jake didn't have time to react as four of the HEXAPOD's tentacles enclosed around his limbs and started exerting outward pressure. Gina's cries for help were quickly replaced by the roar of blood in his ears and the sound of cartilage popping in his body. He felt the bones of his forearms bending as the robot's arms forced his backwards from his torso, beginning to feather towards the greenstick fractures that would become full breaks in only seconds time.

_Oh man,_ he thought. _Oh man, this is bad._


	25. Chapter Twenty Four: Realizations

_**Chapter Twenty-Four: Realizations

* * *

**_

"Let him go!" Gina yelled at the machine that was starting to tear her friend limb from limb.

Jake's arms were now bent backwards at a rather uncomfortable angle by the robot's steel limbs. Its green pincers clamped around his wrists, creating ever-increasing indentations. He actually started to feel his arms coming out of his sockets, the cartilage giving way to the strength of the tentacles.

"That is not a mission parameter," the robot replied coldly. "I will break your little friend in half before so."

Somehow, Jake found the ability to speak through the pain. "_Gina...get out of here..._"

"I'm not leaving without you!" she replied urgently.

"Oh, for the love of..." Technus said. The ghost made a slight motion with his hand, and Jake's computer came to life, its wires lashing out and entrapping Gina. "Take her away," he said drably. With one errant move, the strand of wires threw Gina through the door, which promptly gave way.

"Well, that takes care of that nonsense," Skulker growled, turning to Jake. "And now we can tear you limb from limb!"

The pressure on Jake's limbs was now so great that he was on the verge of blacking out from the pain. "Not...a...chance!" he grunted.

In a burst of light, Jake's ghost form emerged from his pained human self. In one move, he brought one of his free feet upwards to meet the HEXAPOD's elliptical body. The robot reeled back, losing its grip on the ghost-boy. Jake rubbed his indented wrists, which felt as though they'd been crushed in hydraulic presses.

"Alright," he said through clenched teeth, "let's do this!"

He flew through the air, making a beeline for the robot which had just tried to break him in half. His path was interrupted, however, by a hand the size of a beach ball catching him around the ankle.

"Pitiful," Skulker said, holding the boy up like a freshly caught trout. "At least the first Phantom actually landed a blow."

Completely ignoring what Skulker had said, Jake looked at the figure lying in the splinters of what had been his door. Gina seemed unconscious, and a rather large welt had formed on her forehead. Jake prayed that she was alright.

Skulker threw Jake towards the animated computer (which he kinda hoped he could fix), whose cables crackled with astounding energy. Managing to make himself intangible, Jake phased right through the computer, reemerging on the other side of his wall in the hallway. He could hear people rushing up the stairs, and soon saw his mother, father, grandparents, and aunt looking down on him.

"Who are you and what do you want with my grandson?" Jack bellowed, brandishing a rather large, chrome-colored weapon that looked oddly like a grenade launcher.

Before Jake could respond, a steel tentacle exploded out of the wall, ensnaring the ghost-child once again. The limb was followed by the rest of the HEXAPOD, along with the two ghosts that had accompanied it on this little mission. The android's pincer now dug into his flesh to a degree that it was drawing glowing green blood.

Through this newfound hurt, he could hear his father softly exclaim, "Oh no..."

"That's right, old friend," Technus screeched. "Your son is at our mercy, and you–"

"My _son?_" Danny asked. "That's not my kid. That's that ghost that's been running around." The other members of the Fenton clan looked incredulous as well.

"Oh really?" Skulker asked snidely. "HEXAPOD, show them."

Jake saw a small, taser-like device come out of one of the robot's free claws. As the device was pressed to his skin, he felt a strange sensation: power coursing through him and out of him at once. In a burst of haloed light, his hazmat suit disappeared, revealing a tattered red vest, black t-shirt, and khaki pants.

"You see?" he heard Skulker say. "Your _son!_"

His parents were speechless, his grandparents shocked. A tear was creeping from Jazz's eye.

"Jake?" Danny asked in a tone of disbelief.

* * *

**_So I was right after all, _**the shadow said. **_You're ghost spawn. An abomination of nature. So why don't you ever listen to me?_**

For now, Ellie tried to ignore the voice whispering in her head, focusing instead on Dalv Tower, that was looming in the distance as she sped towards it. She'd thought it over, and–on the third time around the city–she decided to see Vlad and ask him if what she saw was true. She was sure it was a lie. Besides, why would Clockwork want to help? He was a ghost, after all.

As she flew faster, the Dalv Tower seemed to fill the world with glass and steel. Spotting the uppermost spire where she knew Vlad's lounge to be, Ellie angled herself upwards so that she was gliding mere inches away from the glossy surface of the building. In moments, she was at the top, phasing into the empty room. It was filled with all sorts of luxuries, including a swimming pool, a juice bar, and a racquetball court.

"Vlad?" she called out.

Silence answered.

Ellie began to search the room, finding nothing of particular interest–at least, nothing she and her family didn't have.

_Maybe I'm worrying for nothing, _she thought. _Vlad's a good guy. He just keeps secrets. Everyone does._

"Ellie?" asked a silky voice.

She turned to see Vlad standing in the doorway of the lounge. He was attired in a white robe, with the name of its wearer engraved into the right breast. The rest of his suit was still in place, save for the Armani coat which he held in his hand.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked with a smile.

"I'm just..." Ellie said, "...lookin' around." She picked up a glass of fruit juice from the bar, setting it down again whimsically.

"Oh," Vlad said. "Have you decided what to do with my offer?"

"Um...yeah."

"And?"

"I...I want help."

Vlad's expression brightened to a degree Ellie didn't even think was human. "Oh, Ellie! I just knew you'd say yes!" He walked over to Ellie, embracing her in a hug. Ellie merely blinked, surprised by the gesture.

"Now then," he continued, "come with me. We have much to discuss."

Leading her by the arm, Vlad led Ellie over to a nearby bookcase. He placed his hand on one of the books, partially withdrawing it from its spot. The bookcase fell away, revealing a private elevator shaft. After a few minutes going downwards, they arrived at a spotless-looking laboratory. It was painted in reddish-violet tones, chrome tables displaying various inventions and mechanical parts. On one end was a ghost portal, shaped like a pentagon with swirling green in the center. Apart from this, it looked very much like her parent's private lab.

"Ellie," Vlad said, "you know that you can't rely on people. They won't accept you for who and what you are. However, _I_ will. And to help you along with your progressing powers, I have a gift for you."

As Vlad went to the other side of the lab, Ellie looked around at her surroundings: they were very nether worldly. In a cage on a table was what looked like a mouse. Only this wasn't a mouse: it only had one eye in the center of its face, and glowed a ghastly green. When Ellie went over to it, the creature said, "I will destroy you!" in a squeaky voice.

"Okay..." Ellie said uneasily. On another table was a photograph surrounded by a fancy frame. It depicted a picture of a young woman with sandy brown hair, amethyst eyes, and a turquoise hazmat suit. On it, in edgy writing, someone had written, 'SOMEDAY...'

Finally, beside that photograph was a small, boxy, taser-like device. Picking it up, she examined the green conductor rods used to ward off attackers. On the side was emblazoned PLASMIUS MAXIMUS.

Ellie looked at the words. Plasmius? Why was it named–

_Plasmius._

She couldn't believe it.

She didn't want to believe it.

But this proved it.

The Plasmius Maximus was recorded only once in history, when it was used by its namesake on Jack Fenton almost twenty years ago. It hadn't exactly affected him like it should have, but it hospitalized him for a week during the war. It hadn't been until five years later that the ghost that had used it on him had been identified as the one who'd started the Ghost Wars in the first place.

All those people...

Dead because of this one man...

Ellie's mind went numb.

"Now then," she heard Vlad say, "Here is your gift."

Vlad held up a small vial, capped with a cork and filled with a sort of liquid. Ellie recognized it immediately: rubic ectoplasm. Ghosts exposed to it had been known to go completely insane with power, malevolence taking over every aspect of their minds. It was one of the most potent varieties in its raw form, but extremely dangerous.

But Ellie wasn't thinking about this. All she was thinking about was that Vlad had_ lied _to her. He'd been lying since the day they'd met.

"Do you know what this is?" Vlad asked. "In this vial is the key to your future; the key to your powers. In this vial of ectoplasm is the entire world. You think nobody can possibly understand how it hurts, but _I_ do. Your family cannot be trusted with your secret, can it? There's an empty void inside you just waiting to be filled."

Ellie listened to Vlad's speech. It didn't mean anything to her; he was speaking in a voice as soft as velvet, filled with warmth. But in reality, it contained nothing but ice. It was the speech of a man who knew words, but didn't mean the feelings implied by them.

He continued: "Drink the vial, Ellie. Join me. You shall have everything you so richly deserve."

Ellie looked at the vial, then at Vlad, then at the vial.

All her fear, all her sorrow, all her uncertainty–everything that had caused the nightmares that she feared–welled up inside of her. The fiery furnace of her heart went supercritical.

She threw the vial's contents back into Vlad's cerulean face.

"_Never..._" she said with utter contempt.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five: Confrontation

_**Chapter Twenty-Five: Confrontation

* * *

**_

Jake could barely keep his eyes open as he looked helplessly at his shocked family. A green claw was digging into his neck, not nearly causing as much blood loss as the one in his arm. As he watched the other tentacles weave around in front of him like cobras, he could only think, _Oh no. They know..._

"Danny..." Maddie said to Jake's father, "...how is Jake a ghost?"

"Maybe he's been overshadowed!" Jack said. "It's another trick!"

"You people are so clueless," Skulker interjected. "The world's leading experts on spirits, and you couldn't even tell that your own son was a _half-ghost?_"

Jack fumed. "Liars! Humans can't have ghost powers!"

"Oh, can't they?" Technus asked coyly. "How do you explain your son's little accident with your ghost portal all those years ago?"

"Son, what's he talking about?" Maddie asked.

"It's nothing mom!" Jazz said.

"It's alright, Jazz." Danny sounded resigned. "Mom, that accident made me into something more than a regular man."

In a burst of haloed light, Jake watched as his father's fine Armani suit was replaced by a black and white jumpsuit with a combination "DP" monogrammed on the chest. He saw his father's hair become shorter, bangs hanging over his glowing green eyes. Jake knew who this person was.

_My father is Danny Phantom._ His thought wasn't a question. Apparently, everyone but Jazz and the two ghosts that held him captive looked as shocked as they had been when he'd been unmasked.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

"Oh, how touching," Technus shrilled. "Too bad it'll have to end in a moment."

"It won't end here, Technus," Danny said. His voice had an added resonance that made it very haunting. "Now put my son down."

"I have another idea," Skulker said, turning to the robot. "Break him in half."

Jake saw the tentacles advancing for him like hungry snakes. A sense of urgent power flowed through him, exploding out of him and transforming his trickling blood into ectoplasm. With one thrust, he broke out of the HEXAPOD's grip, landing on the floor in front of Danny Phantom.

"That's it!" he shouted. "I've had it with that thing!" Making a beeline for the robot, Jake wove through the weaving cat's cradle of tentacles to tackle their central ellipse, sending them both tumbling off the balcony into the foyer. He clutched his shoulder in pain, having forgotten that it was the bleeding one.

"Now now, ghost child," Technus said, gliding down to meet Jake as Skulker engaged Danny. "We can't have any of that. If we're going to do this, we'll do it right."

The HEXAPOD clambered over Jake to its master, weaving over around to his back. With a symphony of electrical whirring, the elliptical center attached to Technus's back like a backpack, its wires forming a harness around his chest. Two of the tentacles undid the strap that held Technus's cloak to his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. The remaining four hissed like living snakes, but looking too sinuous and liquid to be either animal or machine.

"Now _this_ is more like it!" Technus said as the six arms rose around him. Like cobras, the upper pair reared their heads to strike, and Jake prepared to dodge...

The attack came from the right.

As soon as Jake started to dodge upwards, another tentacle clipped into the side of his head with the speed of a jackhammer. Sent reeling, Jake saw Skulker screaming at his father and sister as he sailed through a wall and into the study. The shelves were lined with books of all kinds, and lounge chairs were the main decor.

Technus followed in pursuit, the arms flailing several more attacks at the ghost boy, many of which connected. And when Jake tried to fly or phase through the questing tentacles to get at the ghost at their center, they had absolutely no trouble swatting him aside once more. It seemed impossible to fight this crazy ghost.

Technus crowed, "This is pathetic! I'll be tearing you limb from limb soon enough!"

"Do you ever..." Another dodge around a tentacle. "...stop talking?" Jake asked sardonically.

The study was being torn apart. The lounge chairs became either terrain for Technus to throw or Jake to interpose between him and his enemy. Computer outlets became weaponry, pulled out of the wall through the ghost's mechakinetic powers. Finally, the fight left the study, progressing to the roof of the house.

The fight wasn't going well for Jake. Already bruised and battered from the HEXAPOD's attacks alone, he'd been struck more than a dozen additional serious blows, including not only the previous one on the head, but two others to the ribs that left a constant throbbing pain in his side; he'd gotten Technus maybe twice, each time only a glancing blow.

As the tentacles entwined him once more around the waist, Technus laughed as he brought Jake close to his leering face. "Impudent ghost child! I am Technus! Master of Technology and Destroyer of Worlds! And once I crush you, I will rip you apart and laugh over your broken corpse!"

"Please...shut..._UP!_" Jake screamed, ignoring the blinding pain in his body. Bringing his fist up, he connected with Technus's face, shattering one of the lenses of his frameless sunglasses. One of his red eyes shined out from the broken lens, filled with fury.

"You punched me!" Technus snarled. Jake was slammed against the roof of the house, struggling as more tentacles twisted around his body. In Technus's hand appeared a macelike weapon, studded with power conductors around its spherical head. "Prepare yourself for the next life!" Technus said. "It's coming sooner than you think!"

Technus raised the lightning rod, its head crackling with energy that silhouetted it wielder against the blood-red sky...

...and then he was gone.

But not without help.

A blur of black and white had tackled the ghost right off the roof, freeing Jake from Technus's crushing grasp. As he got up, he realized that the black and white blur was his father, looking no worse for wear.

"Dad?" he asked softly.

"It's okay, Jake," Danny replied as he phased through the roof. Jake followed, ending up in an L-sectioned hallway where his father stood.

"But why didn't you tell anybody?" Jake asked.

"Why didn't _you?_" Danny asked in return.

Before Jake could answer, a crashing came from one end of the L-hallway. Skulker stomped through the wall, his weaponry mostly destroyed and his suit battered. "Ghost-boy!" he yelled. "Nothing will keep me from mounting your body over my fireplace!"

As Skulker lumbered towards the two, Jake also saw Technus at the end of the other section of hallway, dragging himself along by the tentacles of his machine. His arrogant, hysterical laughter matched that of Skulker's as his speed picked up.

"Don't worry," Danny whispered to his son. "I have an idea. When I give the signal, phase through the floor. Understand?"

Jake nodded.

Both ghosts shouted as they attacked, both bragged about their own unstoppability and the gruesomeness of the murders that they were about to commit, both cackled madly with a mixture of haughtiness and insanity. Neither one, hidden from the other's sight by the bend of the corridor, had any idea that their exact actions were being copied–even mirrored–by the actions of an equally dangerous teammate. Fittingly enough, each was probably in his own little world, where everything existed to cater to their whims.

Coming down one branch of hallway, Skulker charged toward the halfas, his gorilla arms outstretched for combat.

Racing up the other, Technus got into position and hurled all six tentacles at his enemies' chests, each one spouting lightning from a ghost taser that had emerged out of them

Then, Danny said, "Now!"

At the very last instant, the two phased through the floor, allowing Skulker to pass through the space where they had just been. The tentacles that struck the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter completed a powerful circuit. The ectoplasmic voltage that passed through Skulker's metal body may not have affected the suit at all, for it was a creation of metal. But the ghost at its center was not, screaming in pain as the systems of the suit shut down.

Technus, however, received more of his own medicine. As he was electrocuted, he twitched, jerked, made incoherent noise, and danced a spastic jig to an angry electric symphony. His mullet standing on end, his red eyes wide and terrified, he sank to his knees and then plopped onto his chest with a very audible _thud!_ The tentacles retracted from the metal form of Skulker, becoming as powerless as their master as they shorted out.

Jake and Danny reemerged shortly, and witnessed their handiwork.

"C–cool," Jake said weakly.

"Yeah," Danny said. "They're always so predictable."

"And we came out of it unscathed."

"Not really. Are you aware about your head?"

Jake brought his hand to where his head was throbbing. Something sticky and wet was seeping out from where the HEXAPOD's tentacle had clipped him. He was bleeding from a head artery.

Darkness was pinching at the edges of his vision as the exhaustion claimed him. Finally, it swallowed him whole, and he pitched into his father's outstretched arms just as sirens could be heard in the distance.

* * *

"I offer you _everything,_" Vlad hissed through his sharp teeth, "the entire world served on a _silver platter_...and you have the _audacity_ to _throw it back in my face! Who do you think you are?_"

Ellie wasn't moved by Vlad's words. As she dropped the empty vial and crushed it underfoot, she imagined that it was her fears that she was grinding to dust, that the horrid voice that had plagued her all these months she was dying beneath her boot as she kept her green eyes on Vlad.

"I don't_ want_ your world, you creep." Her voice was dripping with venom. "My brother doesn't want it either, and neither does my dad. I know _everything_ about you, and I'm going to make sure you don't force _your world_ on anybody!"

Wiping the ectoplasm off his sneering face, Vlad let his eyes glow like fiery coals. Ellie stood there shocked as he roared in anger, rushing Ellie with the speed of a locomotive. The backhand he delivered sent the ghost-girl flying into a nearby table.

"_FOOL!_" he shouted in fury.

Ellie got to her feet, nursing a fresh bruise to her cheek. The very thing stung from the combination of the force of the blow and the fact that Vlad could even have such strength in him.

"Now then, Ellen," Vlad continued, his voice regaining control, "I don't believe you quite understood me before. You _will _become my protegee, no matter what you say. You're shackled by a chain, Ellie; one for which you don't have a hacksaw. So I guess it's up to me to expose the weakest link!"

His hand glowing amethyst, Vlad let loose a ghost ray that struck Ellie with the force of a speeding car. As she passed through several tables, a wall, and the racquetball court back in the lounge, she thought that she made a huge mistake.

Well, _two_ huge mistakes.

The first was throwing the vial of rubic ectoplasm in Vlad's face. Some of it was bound to be ingested, whether through his eyes, nose, or mouth. This would only serve to increase his power and madness to a larger, if temporary degree.

The second was even choosing to fight Vlad in the first place.

_What am I gonna do?_ Ellie asked herself._ I saw what he could do in the clock face; how can I possibly beat him? What have I gotten myself into?_

_**It's quite simple really. Let me out.**_

Her eyes went wide at the sound of that voice. _What? You again?_

_Yes, me. He's coming for you, Ellie. He'll kill you unless you fight back. Unleash me._

"No!" she replied out loud. "I won't let you do anything!"

Getting back up once more, Ellie readied herself as she saw Vlad phase through the wall, his red-lined cape billowing behind him as he completed the touchdown of his dignified glide.

"Well then, my dear," he said with a sharp smile, "shall we dance?"

And then, like a lightning bolt, he was upon her.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six: Endgame

_**Chapter Twenty-Six: Endgame

* * *

**_

In a game of chess, one must go through three phases of play: the opening, the midgame, and the endgame.

The opening sets the stage for things to come: moving all necessary pieces into position for the upcoming battle.

The midgame is actual combat: taking, saving, sparing, and sacrificing pieces in order to come closer to victory.

The endgame, however, is the true masterpiece: where the few remaining pieces that were either well-played, ignored, or just plain lucky enough to survive make their last moves in order to secure complete and total domination over the other player.

What many people don't realize is that chess imitates life in many ways. Its struggles are prepared for in the opening, executed in the midgame, and finished off in the endgame exactly like a chess match. It may take minutes, it may take years, but everything will culminate in the exact same manner.

A typical example of a chess match in life is the one that Vladimir Masters, alias Plasmius, embarked on for forty-five years against Jack Fenton. After gaining ghost powers and losing the love of his life to the young inventor, Vlad swore revenge. In his opening, he culminated assets around the world through the use of his powers. In the midgame, he started the Ghost Wars, turning his enemy's son, Danny Fenton, into the perfect warrior.

Now is the endgame, where his mightiest pieces have already been lost to his enemies, where he has barely managed to regain his powers, and where his strategy focuses on a certain player in the enemy camp.

For now, Vlad's motive is to promote his pawn, Ellie Fenton, into his queen.

For if this is done, the game is all but won.

* * *

"I want an ecto-suppresser collar on Technus three minutes ago!" Commissioner Valerie Gray shouted to the Amity Park police officers. "If that doesn't happen within the next five seconds, I'll fire the first–"

Valerie paused her ranting as she saw Danny Fenton sitting on his hoverchair. He seemed serene, in the way of an aged warrior that had just seen a great battle and lived to tell the tale. And that was probably what had happened.

An hour earlier, the silent alarm systems at Fenton Manor had been triggered by two intruders: Skulker and Technus. Very valuable prizes from a police point of view, Valerie had taken a special ghost-hunter detachment outside of town to where the stately mansion stood. However, she knew in her heart that the two ghosts would most likely be trounced before they even got there. She'd known about Danny's secret for years, keeping it like a dear friend; she knew that his reputation in the Ghost Wars wasn't unfounded.

Danny went up to the commissioner, saying, "Hello, Valerie. Long time, no see."

"Same here, Danny," Valerie replied. "So what went on here? This place looks like it's been torn apart."

"It has," Danny said. "I don't know how Technus and Skulker got out of the Ghost Zone, but I'm sure they'll be secured with you on the job."

Valerie's cheeks turned a scarlet hue to match her suit. "Thanks, Danny."

"Anyway, _why _they attacked was pretty clear."

"Revenge?"

"I think so. But something's not right. That robot had no marking on it to specify who it's from, didn't it?"

"Yes. But the metal's been traced back to Master's old company VladCo. It used the metals before it became Dalv Corp."

Danny stared out into space, apparently processing this in his brain.

"Ellie..." he whispered.

"Ellie?" Val asked. "What about her?"

"Jake says he doesn't know where she is."

"I'll put out a search for her, Danny. We'll find her."

Danny sighed. "I hope so. Who knows what she's going through..."

* * *

_SLAM!_

Ellie felt the chemical taste of ectoplasm in her mouth as Vlad's fist impacted with her again. As the greenish substance trickled down the sides of her face, mingling with her sweat, she thought that her father must have had this much luck when fighting Plasmius in his youth. It was practically impossible to avoid the man's attacks, or block their utter force.

Unfortunately, she didn't have time to process this, as she was smashed into the linoleum flooring with a giant violet sheet that Vlad created from his energy.

"You're slipping, Ellie," Vlad said casually as he banished the ecto-shape away. "You're getting too predictable."

Ellie staggered to her feet, and said, "It doesn't matter, Vlad. I know who you are. I'll tell _everyone_ about you."

"And so will I," Vlad replied. "Honestly, if you expose me, you expose yourself."

As she wiped the ecto-blood from her lips, Ellie knew Vlad was right. She charged, grasping empty air as her enemy teleported from one locale to another. It was frightening, the causality of Vlad's technique. It was as though he barely considered her a threat.

"Surely you can do better than that," he chuckled, floating within arm's length of Ellie.

"Get away from me, you freak!" Ellie said, outstretching her hands. Her palms began to glow a ghostly green, culminating in a ghost ray that sent Vlad across the room. Ellie looked at her hands with a mixture of wonder and horror.

"Ah, the ectoplasmic energy blast," Vlad said. "So...year one. Can you do this?" Immediately, three other Vlads appeared in bursts of shadow around their original source, their hands glowing amethyst. Each launched a ghost ray at Ellie, who was unable to dodge the concussive effect. Every nerve ending was on fire as she sank to her knees, fighting off unconsciousness.

Vlad chuckled again. "You're no match for me. Why don't you even try?"

"Let's get one thing straight, you lunatic," Ellie said through clenched teeth, getting to her feet once more, "I'm not playing your sad little game. You're deluding yourself if you think otherwise. You can't make do anything I don't want to do."

"Oh really?" Vlad asked coyly. "The joke's on _you_, my dear. I control the game, and you play according to my rules. Do you understand?"

Ellie growled, sending off another ghost ray at Vlad. The vampire-halfa blocked it with no effort, sending a blast back of his own that sent Ellie back through a window into the blood-red evening. Immediately, she shot back into the lounge, her eyes glowing neon green.

"I see what you're doing, Vlad," she said. "You're trying to make me angry enough so that I try something that hurts someone. Well, news-flash: I'm not biting. You're not worth it."

"You're not finished until_ I_ say so!" Vlad yelled. With another charge, he delivered an uppercut that sent Ellie phasing onto the roof of the Dalv Corp building. There, on a special landing pad, was a hover-limousine, outlined in the reddening sky. Vlad soon followed Ellie onto the roof, his cape billowing behind him like a pair of great wings.

**_I'm telling you it's hopeless,_** Ellie's shadow said once more. **_He'll kill you. Let me out so I can help you._**

_No..._ Ellie replied to her ghost half.

"You're not going anywhere, Ellie!" Vlad shouted. "There's nowhere in the world you can run to in order to escape me!"

_**I said let me out!**_

Ellie's head erupted into a horrible migraine that lasted for ten seconds. She clutched her head in pain, trying to restrain the monster that brewed inside her.

Then, she felt..._good._

Her eyes glowed a solid green as she got back up on her feet. For the first time in a long while, she felt free, happy, and able to take on the world. The world included the monster before her.

Phasing back into Vlad's lab, she picked up the taser-like device that she had seen earlier, stashing it in her belt. Then, she went back onto the roof, making a beeline for the halfa that floated above her, and tackling him out of the air. As soon as he hit the ground, she activated the Plasmius Maximus, electrocuting the ghost until he transformed back into a man once more. And as Vlad lay there, his glorious suit tattered and his hair mussed, Ellie floated above him, smiling like a malevolent dark goddess.

"What?" Vlad asked, looking stunned. "You can't be–"

"What?" Ellie asked. Her voice was far more resonant now, like speaking from the bottom of a well. "More determined to kick your ghostly butt than I was a second ago? And I was thinking that you were actually smart."

Vlad crawled backwards, obviously afraid of what he'd unleashed. Ellie took joy in this, for whatever perverse reason.

"That was a pretty twisted idea you had there," she continued. "Make me angry enough so that I'd focus it and unlock my true power? Well, Tinkerbell, maybe wishes _do_ come true!"

Ellie focused her fury on the man down on the landing pad. Her hands erupted in green light, blasting away as Vlad got up and started to run towards the limo.

"G–get away from me!" he cried out. "You're insane!"

Ellie swooped down, catching Vlad by the waist and hoisting him into the air. She laughed with a mixture of glee and hysteria. She then tossed him into the air, catching him by the shoulders, and stared into his blue eyes with her solid green ones.

"Go ahead, Ellie." Vlad sounded resigned, even sad as he said this. "You know you want to..."

Ellie raised her hand to deliver the killing stroke–

–but then stopped.

_What am I doing?_ she thought. _Why did I do all this? What am I now...?_

Her eyes became just green once again as she touched down on the roof. The haloes of light surrounded her as she released Vlad and sat down, crying. Strangely enough, the old man seemed..._sympathetic_ towards her. He sat down next to her, offering his shoulder to cry upon. Right now, Ellie didn't care whose shoulder she cried on; she was too distraught over what she'd almost done.

"Ellie?" he asked. "What's the matter, dear?"

Ellie looked up at Vlad through teary eyes. "I saw what you did."

"What did I do?"

"You paralyzed my dad. A ghost showed it to me. That's why I attacked you."

"Ellie, how can you believe–"

"Don't lie to me," Ellie said bluntly. "I know what happened. I know that my dad's Danny Phantom, and that I inherited his ghost powers. I think I know what my dream means, too."

"What does it mean, Ellie?"

"It means I have stuff against people that I can't forget. Just like you do. You like my grandma, don't you?"

A pause.

"Yes, I do. I love her very much," Vlad said.

"But why would you kill those close to her?"

"Because it's the only way to make her my wife."

Ellie stared at Vlad. "No, it's not."

"It isn't?"

"No. There is no way."

"What?"

"Vlad, I know why I have these dreams now," Ellie sighed. "It's because I keep things inside instead of telling those I care about. They can help me if I just let them. But you...you don't _really _care about me. You just care about my grandma. It's just that simple."

Ellie got up, wiping the tears and blood from her face as she transformed once again. Vlad followed suit, but called after Ellie: "I warn you, child! You're making a mistake! If you leave now–"

"No, I'm not," Ellie said firmly. "I don't think you would ever do anything to hurt the people close to Maddie out of fear of driving her away. You can't win. It's your power versus your feelings; you never stood a chance. You won't hurt me. You won't hurt my brother. You won't hurt any one of my family or friends. You're conflicted, Vlad. Just like me. And if I know anything about that, it's that you don't need to be punished for what you've done. Just being _us_–that's life without parole."

Ellie took off into the sunset, leaving a speechless Vlad Masters behind.

* * *

Danny and Sam were out on the balcony at 9:00 P.M. that night, waiting for news about their daughter's whereabouts. The phone had been ringing all day, with calls from news stations, business partners, and close friends checking to see if everyone was in one piece. And while Maddie and Jack waited by the phone for that fateful call, Danny and Sam looked at the stars.

It gave them momentary comfort.

Just half an hour ago, Danny and his parents had gone through a very long story about their son. Danny explained about the accident with the ghost portal, how it gave him superpowers, how it freed ghosts regularly into the human plane, and how he fought those ghosts on a near-daily basis as a teenager. Later, he got into how he became a hero during the Ghost Wars, staving off entire armies while at college, and how he could use his ecto-energy to overcome his paraplegia later in life. He talked about his theories on how Jake and Ellie–as Jake and Jazz explained–inherited these powers. And he apologized for not telling his parents earlier.

"It's alright, son," Maddie had said. "No matter what you are, you'll always be our little baby boy."

That thought brought a tear to Danny's eye.

"Dad!" Jake called from an upper balcony. "I see her!"

Sure enough, Ellie Fenton was speeding along in ghost mode towards Fenton Manor. Police were told to stand down by Valerie Gray, saying that the detection of ghosts was a glitch in the system, like it had been with Danny. Jack, Jazz, and Maddie rushed out to the balcony, and Jake floated down in ghost mode.

Ellie touched down in front of her family, her face streaming with sweat and ectoplasm. As she transformed into a human, she stumbled into her father's arms, embracing him in a hug.

"Daddy, I..." she sobbed.

"Shh..." Danny said.

"It's alright," Sam assured. "We're all here for you."

And for the first time in many months, Ellie Fenton knew true peace.


	28. Epilogue: Aftermath

_**Epilogue: Aftermath

* * *

**_

_Personal Log, Jan 12 2030, 6:47 A.M._

_Well, they know._

_Skulker and Technus went and revealed my secret identity to my folks and grandparents. But to tell you the truth, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. In fact, turns out that Dad was a halfa all along! Man, he could kick butt! Skulker won't stay fresh in that tin-can suit of his anymore at Ryker's Island!_

_Ellie's been found out as well. Jazz and I figured out that they'd find her out eventually. But she revealed her identity herself as soon as she got back. She never told us where she was; I think she wants to keep that private. I'll accept that._

_Gina's alright, too. She's got a bit of a bump on the head, but she'll be fine. She says she's glad I'm okay, and that I'm the best friend she's ever had. Not only that, but she asked me to the Sadie-Hawkins dance that's going on in two weeks. I said yes; she's a nice girl._

_Well, I'd better get to school now. Bye!

* * *

_

Ellie Fenton was soaring. Literally.

As she sailed through the sky next to her brother and friends on their hover-scooters, she felt that same sense of security she had felt last night. That same freedom from the whispering shadows that had plagued her mind for the past three months, and for most of her life. The same utter bliss that had come from rocking in her parents' arms.

She wanted it to last forever.

"Ellie?" came Dave's voice out of the blue.

The girl shook her head, clearing her memory and bringing her back to the real world. "Yes, Dave?"

"You look kinda spaced out. Are you alright?"

"Sure I am," she replied. "In fact, I've never been better."

Dave's grin turned goofy. "Oh. Goody..."

"She's been really happy ever since last night," Jake explained. "She won't tell any of us why, though. Says it's her little secret."

"Right," Ellie said. "And I'm not telling. I already explained about my dreams, remember?"

"You should have told us earlier," Chrissy said. "Those dreams must've been horrible."

"They were," Ellie said. "And you're right. I just...thought that nobody would understand."

"Don't worry, Ellie," Jake said reassuringly. "You're just fine."

She smiled. "Thanks."

Soon, the four teens reached the school, which sat in the middle of the city, unchanged like the rest of it all. It was quaint that way, Ellie thought, the way the school never changed on the outside, but revamped itself on the inside. She felt a kindredness with the place in that way.

Once they were inside, Ellie tapped her brother on the shoulder. "Jake? Can I talk to you?"

"Okay," he said.

"What's the matter?" Chrissy asked.

"Nothing," Ellie said. "You guys go ahead."

Chrissy and Dave nodded, walking off to their lockers.

"Now then," Jake said, "what do you want to talk about?"

"Jake..." Ellie started, "you know how I feel about you and Gina, right?"

"That you hate each other's guts?"

"Yeah, about that. I'm not okay with you two and the Sadie-Hawkins dance, and I don't know if I ever will be. But, if she makes you happy, I'll go along with your friendship."

Jake smiled warmly. "Thanks, sis. That means a lot."

"Yeah. I just don't wanna turn into–" Ellie paused in mid-sentence.

"Into who?"

"Nobody," Ellie said. "It's not important."

From down the hall came Mr. Gardner's booming voice: "_FENTONS! MY CLASSROOM! NOW!_"

And they ran off to the class, just like two normal people.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I feel great. Just great. I told my parents everything, and they still love me. Dad's a half-ghost, too! Who would have thought? He offered to help us with our powers, too. Now there's an offer I'd like to get into!_

_Aside from that, I decided against telling everyone about Vlad. If anybody knows what he goes through every day, I do. There are four types of people in the world: naive, foolish, vengeful, and wise. The naive forgive and forget. The foolish forget but don't forgive. The vengeful neither forgive nor forget. The wise forgive but don't forget. Vlad's vengeful over Grandma, just like I was over Gina. I don't want to become what he is._

_Even though Commissioner Gray's escalating the police force, I have a feeling our hero days are just beginning. I have a feeling that more ghosts will come, and since my dad says he's retired to protect his family, me and Jake will take over. It probably will be a mixture of good and bad, but I'm willing to face it for them._

_And get this: Tyler Shaw gave us nicknames: "The Phantom Twins." Corny, eh? My dad thinks the names "Ellie Phantom" and "Jake Phantom" are cool, though. Maybe I'll let the names slide. At least it's better than "Inviso-Bill!"_

_I'm not worried._

_The days of the Phantoms have just begun..._


End file.
